Ends of the Earth
by OnceUponABookworm
Summary: Post-Neverland. Hook doesn't see a place for him in Storybrooke, and so takes the Jolly Roger and leaves. But what happens when a certain Savior needs his help and sets out to find him? Definitely Captain Swan (Hook & Emma). Stakes rise and threats loom. Ultimately, what lengths will one individual go to for help, for love, and for sacrifice?
1. End of A Beginning

Chapter One: End of A Beginning

...

_And what hurts the most,_

_Was being so close_

_And having so much to say_

_And watching you walk away_

_~What Hurts the Most, Rascal Flatts_

...

Cheers and singing reverberated throughout the old warehouse as half of Storybrooke embraced. Peter Pan was defeated. And here they were after luring him into a trap that had bound his powers forever, sending him back to Neverland to be nothing more than a scared little boy. _Forever_. Killian smiled, amused with an imagined image of the tantrum Pan must have been throwing that very moment. Beside him Henry hugged his mother for all he was worth, and the beautiful blonde embraced right back. After a few moments Henry squirmed out of her grasp, mumbled something inaudible for Killian, and then rushed off into the crowd.

Emma stood from where she was kneeling and looked over at Killian, who hadn't realized he'd been staring. She tilted her head at him, expecting words. Killian gave a slightly awkward cough and then opened his mouth. "Well, a job well done I'd say." She smiled warmly, and Killian felt his heart skip a beat when she stepped closer. _Damn it Jones, pull yourself together!_

"Yeah, I guess it was," she shrugged. "I'm glad we found a way to fix Davi-"

"_You_ found a way, Swan," Killian felt obligated to point out. "It was your magic, after all."

She smiled again. Another jump of his heart. "I guess. Now they're going to have another baby I suppose . . . and things will pretty much go back to normal." She bit her lip, an internal battle clearly taking place. She was debating whether or not to say something to him. Killian simply watched her face, waiting. Finally she took a deep breath and spoke. "What are you going to do?"

Killian breathed in sharply. _I hadn't expected that. Maybe she does care. _He liked to think he could read Emma like an open book, but he could never tell what she was feeling in relation to him. And it hurt him deeply, cutting to the core when he thought she might not care at all for him like he did for her. "Well," he began. "I really don't know. But, Emma," he looked into the astounding depths that were her stormy eyes, and he needed to tell her the truth. "I want to be near you." She dropped her mouth just a little, eyes widening slightly as she stepped back and let her head fall to the ground, her hair falling to her face.

"Hook . . .I-I," she stuttered, and Killian's heart clenched. _Hook_. Did she still really think of him as just that cold pirate? Not a man of honor?

"Emma, please," he reached out to her face, gently holding her chin and lifting it up to him as he flipped her hair behind her shoulder. "My name is _Killian_." He searched her eyes pleadingly, and with another mental slap realized they were filling with unshed tears. She looked at him for the briefest of moments, something he'd never seen before alight in her eyes. Before Killian could say a thing though, she dropped those beautiful eyes away again and let them search the ground. He opened his mouth to make another attempt at a conversation, but she beat him to it.

"What's that?" she whispered, eyes trained on the ground a few feet away. She suddenly kneeled down and crawled through the sets of the feet over to where she'd been looking. Killian would've laughed at the spectacle where his heart not so agonizingly waiting for Emma's next move before breaking or swelling to bursting. She got up from the ground and dusted herself off before marching back over to Killian. She'd wiped her eyes and her expression was guarded, but also curious and puzzled. "Look." she held out a clenched fist, slowly opening it to reveal a clear, sparkling, magic bean.

"But that's impossible," Killian breathed, also transfixed. "There was only one left."

"This was where we fought Greg and Tamara. They must have dropped one!" Emma's tone was excited, and she met Killian's eyes with glee, like a child who'd just found a new toy. Killian smiled right back, heart lifting with Emma's happiness, if it was probably only short lived.

"But you have Ariel. You don't need the bean to travel between realms." Emma's brows creased in thought, and then she nodded, glee fading, much to Killian's disappointment. Suddenly she let out a kind smile and grabbed his arm. Startled, he made no move to stop her as she opened his good hand and carefully placed the bean in his palm, looking back up at him slowly. Her smile was still in place, but no longer genuine. She was giving him the bean. But _why? _

Emma shrugged aloofly, out of character for her. "A symbol of something magical and full of hope," she muttered jokingly, looking away as a blush began to crawl up her face.

"Much like you," Killian finished in a whisper. Now he knew what was going on_. She expects me to leave her, like everyone else in her life. Not happening, Swan._ Suddenly very determined, carelessly he tossed the bean behind him, and Emma took on a shocked expression. "Emma, I-"

"Emma!" interrupted a call behind them. They turned and there was Neal, standing with Henry and waving Emma over excitedly. Emma looked at Neal, then back at Killian, and then at Henry. "I'm sorry, I just can't do this," She frowned apologetically and then rushed over to her family, leaving Killian's heart about to shatter on the ground. She couldn't even let him finish! But how could he blame her? She was afraid he would hurt her, that he would leave her, that she wouldn't be enough. . . _again_. He just had to show her that would never happen.

So he steeled himself and waited for Emma to come back, to hear him out. The mingling bodies in the warehouse blocked his view of her, but he could just catch a glimpse of her hair, and kept his eyes trained on it until the crowd parted enough for him to see more clearly. There Emma was, with Henry and Neal, arms around the both of them. Killian's jaw tightened with jealousy, but he pushed it away. Then Snow and Charming came forward, putting their own arms around their daughter and grandson, starting to walk off together, laughing and joking amiably. As they walked away, Emma looked back at him, expression unreadable. Then she looked away and took her final steps out of the warehouse and away from Killian.

There it was.

The anger and jealousy he had only just pushed away, the searing pain of heartbreak suddenly came crashing down on him like a wave. Unable to take it for yet another moment in his life, this time more intense than he'd ever felt it before, he fell to his knees on the ground. No one noticed him as they too, drifting after the royal family, vacated the warehouse, and soon Killian was alone. He dropped his head and punched the crate next to him as hard as he could, letting out a scream of emotional turmoil with hot tears streaming down his cheeks. _I'm sorry, I just can't do this._ Of course not, because she loved Neal. Because she had a family with him and Henry. Because when she gave him the bean she _wanted _him to leave. Emma didn't love him. She wanted him out of her life. Killian Jones' love was just an annoying distraction. _**She had chosen.**_ He tried to get angry at Emma, tried to let any emotion other than such deep melancholy come over him, but it didn't work, and as he pulled his knuckles, now stripped and bleeding to the bone, out of the crate, he just sat there and let his heart break all over again. Getting up slowly, Killian began to walk out of the warehouse, dragging his feet, each barely choked in and out breath fueling a broken heart that was still beating. But he couldn't leave before grabbing the magic bean, cradling it in his calloused fingers like a precious newborn. _Something magical and full of hope_, he inwardly scoffed bitterly. _But it's not dried up, dead, or useless. Like my heart. _

And with those thoughts and images of Emma running through his head, Killian Jones walked out of Storybrooke and Emma's life, climbed aboard the Jolly Roger, and sailed away.

_**First Chapter! Whoooo! Please drop a review, favorite or follow and thanks for reading!**_


	2. Off to Save Us

Chapter Two: Off to Save Us

…

_It's not the sky I'm asking for_

_I'm just having trouble finding north_

_I've gone as far as I can go_

_Trying to find something that feels like home_

_~Finding North, The Civil Wars_

…..

Emma sipped her cocoa, the cinnamon and cream dancing across her tongue and the hot chocolate warming her throat as she swallowed. _What's the date?_ she tried to remember for a moment. _Oh yeah, October 6th. Exactly 19 months since we got Henry back._ "Here's to nineteen months," she muttered as she downed the rest of the mug in one go. Her jacket pocket started to vibrate and she fumbled to unzip it and take out her phone. A dopey, crooked smile and warm brown eyes appeared on the screen, above the word Neal. _Not right now, _Emma groaned inwardly, and let the her phone stop ringing before turning it off, sure he would call again. For months and months after getting Henry back, he'd pursued. Almost so much it seemed like he was spending more time with his ex-lover than his son. But finally, amidst all the flowers and phone calls and gifts, Emma had conceded. That was two weeks ago. And after only two weeks she felt her old feelings of betrayal, and anger, and loneliness stir, all directed at Neal. And she'd just snapped. After being stood up for a date, when she saw him again he shrugged her off and she _snapped_. _Thank David's horseback riding lessons Henry didn't see it._ But that didn't mean half the town didn't.

So now here she was, celebrating 19 months of drama and trying to avoid any more in Granny's diner. Things were so much simpler when all she had to do was figure out how to take back her son from a cheeky perma-teen who loved the game of Life…. and Death by Lost Boy, Dreamshade, or cheeky perma-teen. When her parents weren't trying to sideline her without making it seem like they were as they prepared for a new child, when she didn't have to share Henry and when she didn't feel like he thought of her as an aunt more than a mother, when there was always a certain raven-haired pirate ready with a flask of rum when she was feeling down, understanding and supportive . . . . _Hell, _she thought, pushing the vision of him away and focusing instead on the thought of alcohol. _I could really use some rum right now. _But all she had was her cocoa. "Ruby?" she called over the counter, and in moments the lanky and beautiful girl popped out of the kitchen.

"Slow day," she remarked as she leaned over the counter and beamed at Emma. They were the only ones in the diner.

"Yeah," Emma nodded, staring down her mug to the bottom, where only a tiny bit of dark brown chocolate powder was left, whipped cream stuck to the rim of the cup. "Got anything stronger?"

"Trying to forget about the fight with Neal?" Ruby pouted sympathetically, and Emma's head shot up, an unwilling blush creeping up her cheeks.

"Did everyone see that?" she grunted, and Ruby shrugged apologetically.

"It's not that, darling." Emma's heart stopped for the briefest of moments, an image flashing in her mind's eye of who used to call her _darling_, disappearing as soon as it had appeared as Ruby continued. "Everybody _heard _it."

Emma cursed under her breath, and then smiled sarcastically at her friend. "I remember when I thought Storybrooke was a place where I could get a fresh start, away from my past," she said in mock-cheer.

Ruby chuckled, though it was full of painful memories and words not spoken. "Me too," she sighed, and looked down. For a moment the two just sat in a sad reverie, each rethinking regrets and how lost they were. But quite suddenly and without warning, the counter began to rumble. The very ground beneath Emma's feet swayed, and her mug was shaken to the ground where it shattered. She and Ruby held on to each other for balance, teeth chattering and limbs turning to rubber in unison. Finally the shaking stopped, and Ruby fell to the ground, legs buckling beneath her. Emma managed to stay put by grasping the counter and staying still until the vertigo faded away and she could move her jarred limbs with most of their freedom restored. Lithely she jumped over the counter and rushed to help the dark-haired girl up, who leaned on her for support and sighed.

"Whew!" she smiled widely, though her eyes betrayed worry. "Eighth time in just as many days. That's gotta be a new record!"

Emma nodded, though her expression was more solemn. "It is. They're getting more frequent. I should call Da-" A loud, alarming shrill ring in her jacket interrupted her, and she urgently took out another phone.

"I thought you turned your phone off."

"This is my work cell," Emma explained briefly, flipping open the outdated phone and holding it to her ear. "David," she greeted.

"Emma," her father's voice sighed through the phone, relieved and staticy. "It's worse. . . thought. We should…." His words were cut off by bouts of static, and all Emma could hear after a few seconds was hissing.

"David," Emma said as she began to walk outside, Ruby beside her. "Meet me at the station, okay?" All she heard on the other end was static, so she hung up and walked purposefully down the street, no inkling of a plan at all.

...

"How many has that been since we got Henry back?" Emma asked again, head in her hands as she sat in her desk at the Sheriff's Office, with David, Mary Margaret, Gold, Belle, Regina and Neal.

"19 quakes and 12 power outages, starting around 2 months after we defeated Pan."

"And then two months ago we sent our favorite little mermaid," Regina pointed out with a gloved hand, and Emma was painfully reminded of Ariel, whom she'd grown quite close to. "To Neverland, to see if Pan could possibly have anything to do with this. And since she has yet to come back, I'd say it's safe to assume she'd dead."

"And that Pan has his powers back," Gold added with a grim nod.

"No!" someone screamed from behind a wall, and out stepped a bleary-eyed Prince Eric.

"Eric, you shouldn't-" Emma began, but he cut her off with his sobbing.

"Emma please, I only just found her; I can't stand to lose my True Love again." Though the words were touching, Emma cringed at the mention of True Love. Why was everyone so obsessed with it? And why did _they_ all seem to have it? The bitterness that surged up inside her she pushed away as she took a deep breath.

"We aren't going to assume anything," she said pointedly as she stood and glared at everyone in the room in turn. "What we _think might_ be going on is that Peter Pan somehow got his powers back and is hellbent on vengeance on Storybrooke, and that he has Ariel, er," Emma stole a quick glance at Eric, to see him staring at her hopefully. "_Captured_," she finished, clearing her throat.

"So we need to get to Neverland and save Ariel," Neal said as if it were obvious.

"That would be nice, yes Bae," his father began, turning to him and speaking with a stern gentleness. "But you know how hard it is to traverse realms. We have no way of getting to Neverland." Everyone's faces fell, and while Emma had her brows furrowed in concentration, trying to think of a solution, all eyes turned to her. She looked up, and everyone was staring expectantly. David, Neal and Mary Margaret smiled encouragement, Gold and Regina watched her with their lips in tight lines, and Eric was practically leaning in to her face, eyes gleaming with hope and admirance. Emma stifled a sigh. _Crap. I don't know what to do._ Quickly she tried to think of a way to stall, and then stood straighter to address them all, hoping to sound more confident than she felt.

"Okay, so we'll have a town meeting in an hour, and there I'll tell everyone what we're going to do." With that she marched out on them all, ignoring the looks of pride, satisfaction and disgust with her idea.

Emma walked down the street as quickly as she could, no destination in mind. _What am I going to do? They all expect an answer from me! _Before she knew she'd reached the loft, and decided she might be able to think better with a cup of coffee. She trotted up the stairs quickly, trying to let ideas flow through the blockage in her mind, but it wouldn't work. Letting out a sigh that could probably be heard around the world, Emma felt her feet aching and went to her room to instead plop on her bed. When she did she heard a strange thump underneath her, and with a groan of reluctance, rolled herself onto the floor. Squinting at the dusty darkness under her bed, Emma reached in, feeling around for what the bed springs had hit to make the noise. She felt a box, and slid it out from its hiding place, blowing the dust off.

It was a dark mahogany, not at all fancy, but elegant in a rugged way. Setting her priorities aside for a moment, Emma gingerly opened the lid, and gasped.

A bunch of dust came out and made her cough.

When she had finished, she pulled the first item out of the box. Her baby blanket, embroidered in white with her name in purple thread on it, slid out. Emma looked at it briefly, the nostalgia of living with her mother as a roommate for almost a year hitting like a pang. Mary Margaret understood her so much better then, when she wasn't trying too hard. Placing the blanket tenderly in her lap, Emm searched through the rest of the box. The tie from the suit Graham had wanted her to wear when she first became deputy. August's typewriter, given to her by Gepetto when Pinocchio expressed distaste in it. As carefully as she could, Emma pulled the typewriter up, placing it beside her other treasured objects, knowing very well what lay underneath. At the bottom of the box was a long, black scarf, and a shining golden compass. Emma took the scarf out first, running it through her hands. She felt an ache in her heart, as she had ever since Hook left. Whenever she thought of him or was reminded of the charming pirate, it rose from a dull, constant pain to a searing burn. _But I never loved him,_ she reminded herself, though the pain persisted. _I could've though. I would've if he'd been around only a little longer. And I cared . . ._ she shook her head, the thoughts bringing up unwanted feelings of longing to be able to trust and love as well as tears. Emma lifted the scarf to her eyes to dry them, much as she had when she'd wept after he left the first time. She expected him too, though, because they always did. She'd wanted him too, because she knew if he stayed any longer she would probably come to love him as much as he did her, and only get hurt. So very, very hurt. And he'd done what she asked. He'd done what she wanted and left, because Emma knew he would always do whatever she asked of him, just as he had so many times on the quest for Henry in Neverland.

_No._ she thought, _stop feeling sorry for yourself! _She took a deep breath to calm herself, breathing in the scent of the scarf. It smelled of a lot of rum, but also seawater and air, exotic spices, and something that was just "Killian Jones". _Hook,_ she silently corrected herself as she finally put the scarf down and picked up the compass. Briefly, the adventure of the bean stalk flashed before her eyes and she relived looking for the compass with Hook, facing the giant, getting trapped, helping Anton who helped her, Lake Nostos, the magic bean . . . _the magic bean_! _I gave Hook the magic bean! If he hasn't used it, then we can go looking for him, and get him to give it back so we can go to Neverland and defeat Pan once and for all and save Ariel…._ her thoughts began snowballing, moving faster and faster, until she became aware of a loud whizzing coming from the palm of her hand. Breaking her train of thought, Emma's attention was drawn to the compass in her hand, its needle spinning around and around like mad, just as Emma's thoughts were. She tried to focus, letting images of Hook and the magic bean she gave him flood her mind, until the noise of the needle spinning finally slowed and stopped. She opened her eyes, not realizing they had been closed. The compass was pointing south. Emma stood and turned left, but still the needle stayed true. _It's pointing me to Hook and the bean._ She smiled with joy at her success, and after carefully stowing all her treasured things away, stepped out of the room, her eyes only leaving her compass for a moment to glance at the saber hung above her bed.

...

Emma wriggled out of David and Mary Margaret's grasp after almost losing all air flow, and faked disgust (though her heart warmed at the way her parents were treating her). "Guys, I'm not going to Timbuktu or anything!" Mary Margaret just smiled, tears in her eyes, and David hugged her again. After squirming away, Emma went over to address Neal. "I'll haven't forgiven you," she said guardedly, crossing her arms and tilting her weight to one leg. "As far as I'm concerned, our relationship is on the endangered species list."

He nodded the instant she stopped speaking. "I know, I know, and I am so sorry. But before you go can I just be frank without getting dumped?"

Emma lifted her eyebrows. "No, you can be Neal," she deadpanned, and he chuckled. "But okay, shoot."

"I don't like this," Neal said, eyes on Emma's. "The idea of you going to find Hook alone. He's a villain, and he's dangerous."

Emma felt sudden anger flare up at Neal, and barked, "He'll be fine around me. Besides, it's just one person. Not like I need a whole brigade to help me find Hook."

"He might do something!" Neal insisted.

"He wouldn't do anything to hurt me," Emma argued, surprised to find how true she knew the words were. She narrowed her eyes at Neal. "You sure you're not just worried _I_ might do something?"

Neal took on a defensive posture, opening and closing his mouth as he groped for words. "I, uh, no, of course not! But it's been a year and a half! Who knows what he could be doing!" The lie detectors in Emma's brain blared like sirens, and it took all her self-control not to scream at Neal for not trusting her. Instead, she settled on a cold shoulder.

"I will, soon," she sneered as she walked away, ignoring his outstretched hands. "Be sure to send you pics of his new CEO digs at Hookers, Inc." Thankfully she was saved from a confrontation when Henry ran and leapt into her arms. Emma hugged him for all she was worth, rubbing his head. When she finally let go he was pouting at her.

"But Mom, I want to come on Operation Swan!"

"Sorry kid," Emma said as she kissed his forehead. "Not this time. You're looking forward to spending more time with your dad though, aren't you?" Henry nodded reluctantly, and then leaned forward to whisper excitedly in her ear.

"Just make sure, when you go off to save us, that you'll be careful and follow all the mission rules, okay?" Emma smiled and whispered back in his ear.

"Sure thing, kid." Then she slowly got up, waved goodbye to everyone, and hopped into her bug. She could just see Henry rear view mirror, still waving wildly, as she drove away.


	3. Surviving for You

Chapter Three: Surviving for You

….

_This Romeo is bleeding_

_But you can't see his blood_

_It's nothing but some feelings_

_That this old dog kicked up._

_It's been raining since you left me_

_Now I'm drowning in the flood_

_You see I've always been a fighter_

_But without you, I give up_

_~Always, Bon Jovi_

….

Emma yawned, taking a sip of her coffee as she drove. She didn't know how long it had been, but night had long since descended. She'd discovered that when the road forked, she could take a look at her compass, focus her thoughts, and it would point down the road she should go. Now she took a look back up, and when the 18-wheeler in front of her moved, she saw towering buildings in the distance, reaching for the sky. "Great," she muttered to herself. "New York."

She pulled into the city after a while of looking for the right opening, relying on the compass to navigate her through the labyrinth of streets. Eventually the car got a bit too stuffy for her liking, and Emma gingerly rolled down the window of the bug. She expected smog and exhaust to assault her senses, but was instead greeted with the mouthwatering aroma of food wafting from several restaurants, the tang of sea air underlying it. _Right,_ Emma thought, _the Jolly Roger will be at the docks_. She drove around for much longer, trying to find her way, only succeeding in getting more lost. She tried to consult the compass, but apparently traffic laws weren't part of its programming and it kept pointing down streets she couldn't go. Finally, as the sky was tinged pink and the sun peeked above light gray clouds, Emma found an empty pier, not too close or far to the rest of the city, that the compass was pointing straight at.

Stiffly she got out of the car and began to walk down the pier. Absolutely no boats were there. _Is this thing out of batteries?_ Emma thought as she poked the compass while she walked, though the needle stayed true. As she continued forward she suddenly tripped, her shin striking what felt like a step, but when she turned after standing back up was only empty air. Tentatively Emma stretched out a foot, and she could feel the step. "Of course. A cloaking spell." With great care she used her hands and feet to find the other steps and railing, and began to climb the invisible stairs. When she reached the top and stepped forward again, suddenly there was a rush of air and she was aboard the visible deck of the Jolly Roger. It had never looked better. _Wow_, Emma thought. _Regina did a nice job of fixing it._ She looked around for a moment, and when she didn't see Hook, opened her mouth to call his name, the worry inside of her silencing it. _What if he resents me? What if he doesn't have the bean, or he destroyed it? What if he doesn't __**care**_ _anymore? _She shook her head vigorously, reminding herself this was an important mission, to save Storybrooke, and that she would not be swayed by her feelings for the pirate, whatever ache he may have left in her heart when he left. _This is business_, Emma repeated to herself in her head. _Sure, if he wants to come back to Storybrooke, fine, but this is business._ "Hook!" she called. "Hook! Come on, I know you're here. It's Emma!" When she yielded no answer, Emma threw up her hands and descended the stairs to below deck. The only light to be found was gloomy at best, and shadows danced on the walls. The boat rocked gently back and forth with the waves, but Emma still needed to spread her arms and brush either side of the wall in order to maintain balance. Once she reached the door to the Captain's cabin she was used to it, and cleared her throat before knocking loudly.

No answer.

Worry began to prickle in the pit of Emma's stomach, so she shoved opened the door and stepped inside without waiting any longer. Hook's room was a mess. Bottles upon bottles upon bottles of beer, liquor, and rum littered the plush carpet, and even more alcohol lay on the table. Hook's large, luxurious bed was unmade and unkempt, and at his desk in the corner, maps and books were strewn about. Emma moved cautiously closer to them, doing her best to avoid the empty bottles. She reached the desk and took a look at what Hook had been reading. The maps were of lands she had never heard of, colorful and vibrant illustrations faded from the wear of time decorating them. It seemed he had been looking over courses long since charted, and when Emma looked at some of the books on his desk, she gasped in surprise. _Is that . . . Latin? Where did Hook learn to read Latin?_ Suddenly there was the creaking of footsteps, and Emma froze in place as Hook came up from the secret door to a small storage compartment adjacent to the cabin, one she'd long since found out about since her tenure on the Roger. He had jewlery all over him; pearl necklaces, golden and diamond engagement rings, and _lots_ of cash cradled in his arms. He appeared to be counting it as he plopped it all on the table at grabbed a bottle of vodka, popping it open with his teeth and beginning to down it. He was wearing surprisingly normal clothes, with jeans and a T-shirt, on top of which was a blue vest, his brace and hook still in place. Hook was about to sit down, but Emma knew she had to make her presence known. She was just so suddenly unsure of herself, and all the worries that had attacked her on the deck came rushing back up.

But standing straighter and letting out a small cough, Emma sucked it up and spoke. "Hook?" Immediately he whipped around to face her, expression contorting into one of shock as he let go of the vodka bottle and fell to the floor with a shatter. Hook didn't even blink, and neither did Emma as she watched him. His initial surprise lasted all of a few seconds, before he broke out into the widest grin she had ever seen on him, genuine and happy, eyes that had been hollow filling to the brim with glee.

"Emma!" he exclaimed, taking a few steps closer and still smiling. "You're here."

"Where did you get all that money and jewelry?" Emma swallowed the smile she didn't realize she'd been wearing as well and crossed her arms, expression stern. Hook just kept smiling, and then shook his head as if to clear it.

"What? Oh that. A pirate needs to sustain himself, love." He shrugged indifferently, gesturing to the empty alcohol bottles, and Emma realized that he looked quite pale. The smile faded away from his face as he continued to look back at her, and suddenly looking for all the world like he was about to die of pain. Then he turned away and cleared his throat. "How's Henry?" he asked nonchalantly as he played with his hook.

"Fine," Emma replied. "He wanted to come with me."

"Of course he did. What of David?" Hook still kept his back turned, but his tone seemed to brighten at the mention of Emma's father.

"He's good too. Told me to tell you that you're still mates." Hook turned back to her, smiling again, but humorlessly, as if it were forced. Then his mouth straightened into a thin line, and he stared into Emma's eyes with what looked to be a mixture of misery, longing, and the slightest flicker of hope.

"Neal?" the word was soft, a question, but teeming with clear and bitter resentment for him.

"Uh," Emma was startled by Hook's intensity. "He's okay. We, er, we're kind of together." Hook smiled again, but this time it held malice and a cold abrasiveness.

"Right." Emma stepped closer to him, and reached out to cup his face. Hook flinched, but didn't pull away. "What're you doing, Swan?"

"How drunk are you?" Emma asked, concerned. She could feel the sweat on his face and see that his hair was damp with it, and heat rolled off of him in waves, eyes bloodshot. He also seemed strangely unsure on his feet. Only a few moments before he could navigate through the cluttered cabin with catlike grace, and now he could barely stand.

"Oh, I don't get drunk anymore, darling. Just been a bit sickly lately," he shrugged again.

"I'd say more than a bit!" Emma said, looking him up and down again.

"Why do you care?" he asked suddenly, blue eyes like chips of eyes rising to meet hers, burning with the question.

"Because I care about you," was all Emma could manage, voice barely above a whisper. Before she could say anything more though, the ship was rocked by a violent wave and Hook fell forward, Emma's arms the only thing holding him up. She realized he had become dead weight, and figured his fever was catching up to him. "Hook!" She fell to the ground with him as the boat steadied, unable to support his weight standing. "Come on Hook, wake up! Hook! _Killian!_" the name rolled off her tongue unintentionally, but felt natural and familiar when she finally said it. "Come on Killian, you're a survivor!"

"What's the use of surviving if you have nothing to live for?" Killian mumbled, laughing a hollow and empty laugh as he lay in her arms. The words tore Emma apart, and when he looked up at her, open and vulnerable and full of so much heartache, she almost sobbed herself. Instead she gently ran her hand across his cheek to reassure him, and began to try and lift him up. He grabbed onto part of the desk with his good hand to help her, and slowly they made their way over to the bed, where Emma let him lay down. He rolled gratefully onto the sheets, and Emma placed her hand on his forehead, feeling his temperature. He was still very hot.

"Okay, you've got a really bad fever," Emma told him as she sat on the sheets beside him. "I'm going to go into town and get you some medicine, so you can get better. Okay?" She got up and began to walk out of the cabin, but Killian grabbed her arm. She turned back to him, raising her eyebrows in question.

He looked back at her, expression pleading and vulnerable. "Please," he said, voice hoarse and low but at the same time intense and choked with emotion. "Don't leave me." Emma looked down at him, expression pained and torn. Her feelings overtook her, and she leaned in and gently kissed him on the forehead. When she pulled away, her hand was in his.

"It's okay," she soothed, regaining control of herself as she headed towards the door. "I'll come back."

As she marched away was almost out the door, she could've sworn she heard the smallest of whispers say, "I know."

….

When Emma came back, Killian was fast asleep. She prodded him awake in order to give him the antibiotics she'd purchased at the pharmacy, and made him drink tea. It wasn't just any tea, but a special kind she always brewed herself when she was sick, that helped her recover more quickly, soothed her throat, and didn't taste too badly either. Killian sipped his carefully, and it seemed like each swallow was an effort. But with patience and perseverance, Emma got him to drink the whole mug. Then she put an icepack on his forehead, and had another in her hand. "Where does it hurt?" she asked, and the groggy Killian slowly lifted his hand, resting it over his heart.

"Here."

Emma sighed with annoyance, pushing away the sympathy she felt for him. It was one of _those_ fevers. The kind that made you hallucinate and act crazy. _This is going to be a long night,_ she thought. "Alright," she said. "I've got to give you your medicine every four hours, so don't be annoyed if you hear the alarm on my phone. You should be better by tomorrow, and then it should be completely gone in a couple of days. I got you the heavy-duty stuff." All she got in response was a slight groan, as Killian was quickly falling asleep again. "Good night," Emma whispered, and made to walk out of the cabin again. But Killian had gotten his hand in hers somehow, and held on firmly. Sighing in resignation, Emma dragged the chair from his desk over to the bed, figuring it would be easier to monitor him from there. And so she sat, watching the peaceful sleeping pirate, none of her thoughts on what was supposed to be her current objective. A long night indeed.

…

In the morning, after several doses of the medicine with a name too long and boring to pronounce, Killian was up on his feet and had decided to change back into his old pirate garb. He'd prodded Emma awake, who insisted he go with her to get coffee. "I need something from you," Emma explained. "I can't have you sailing away." This seemed to offend Killian, and he'd stepped very closely to her, expression completely serious.

"Name anything you wish, and I will give it to you. I won't run. I _won't_ leave you."

"You left me once," Emma had found herself saying, and Killian only shook his head.

"Can you really say that when you left me first?" And so to avoid the painful conversation, Emma got coffee by herself, returning to the Jolly Roger aware and caffeinated.

"I didn't know if you even like coffee," she said as she walked towards him on the deck. "So I got you tea."

He whipped around immediately, expression brightening. "Is it the tea you gave me last night?"

"No," Emma smiled. "I make that myself whenever I'm sick. You liked it?"

"It was great," he said, graciously accepting the tea and taking a tentative sip. Immediately he threw it over the side of the ship. "What, no rum?!" Emma laughed, and drank her own coffee beside him.

"So you've just been moping around for the last 19 months?" she finally asked, breaking the comfortable silence. Killian gulped.

"It took me over 300 years to get over Milah. Do you really think I could move on from you so easily?" He turned to her again, expression all too serious.

Emma had to look down at her coffee cup. "I meant in a life-capacity, not romance necessarily."

"So did I." Now it was Emma's turn to gulp. '_So did I'?_ She was his life? _No, I can't think about this right now,_ she told herself. _What am I here for? The bean. Get the bean._

"Regardless, I am here for something," she deflected, lifting her eyes to meet Killian's.

"And what might that be?" Suddenly Emma found herself telling him all about the tremors and power outages back in Storybrooke, sending Ariel, Ariel not coming back, thinking it might be connected to Pan, and a bunch of other, irrelevant things, like how to the compass led her to him.

". . . And, now I need the magic bean so we can go to Neverland and see what's really going on," she finished, out of breath. Killian had been listening intently, expression solemn.

"As you wish," was all he said with a small, playful smile as reached into his shirt and pulled out the bean, hung on a silver chain around his neck.

Emma was already unwillingly smiling at his choice of words, but now she found herself deeply touched. "You wear it?" she breathed.

"It's our symbol, isn't it?" he winked, carefully taking the chain off, and fastening it behind her own neck expertly even with his one hand. He moved a few steps closer, and soon his and Emma's breath was mingling, and her heart was racing as they stared into each other's eyes. His eyes were so very, very beautiful and deep, Emma was surprised to find; full of pain and a life too full of it, but also hope and affection. The necklace was fastened, but Killian still had his hand resting in her hair. Emma didn't know what to do. A very large part of her wanted to close the gap, but her walls were in the way and used the mission to save Storybrooke as an excuse. Still very confused, a voice made the decision for her.

"Emma?" Suddenly Killian drew away from her, murmuring, "Always a gentleman," and Emma whipped her head around to see Neal standing right in front of them on the deck.


	4. Running from Demons

Chapter Four: Running from Demons

…

_A drop in the ocean_

_A change in the weather_

_I was praying that you and me might end up together_

_Its like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert_

_But I'm holding you closer than most,_

_Cause you are my heaven._

_~A Drop in the Ocean, Ron Pope_

…

_**Warning: This chapter could be considered a little graphic. With violence, guys! Don't get too excited.**_

"Neal!" Emma yelled, voice high and harsh, though it was welcome like music to Killian's ears. It had been far too long since he'd seen his Swan, each day the pain growing larger, with her presence now all gone. He himself was slightly worried Neal might misinterpret his and Emma's proximity, but mostly outraged that he could claim to love her and not even trust her. Emma seemed to share these thoughts, her beautiful face twisting with outrage. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

"What are you doing with _him_!?" Neal screamed back, gesturing at Killian, who looked away. Neal was very different from the Bae he knew, but he still cared and to hear such bitterness directed at him cut like a knife.

"Nothing! He was giving me the bean, you idiot!" she yelled.

"That wasn't what it looked like to me," Neal growled, voice lowering.

"He's Hook! He flirts _all _the time! What did you expect?" Emma's tone was now exasperated, and she looked exhausted. Killian fought the urge to rush to her defense, knowing she could handle it on her own. Neal was now flushing terribly, and scuffed his boot on the deck embarrassedly.

He should've apologized. But clearly he found it easier to just continue to be an arse. "It wasn't just one-sided Emma! I followed you to make sure you were okay. Not to find you spent the night with a pirate!"

"How the hell did you follow me!?" Emma asked, voice still loud and angry but also interrogative as she stared Neal down.

Neal gulped. "I tried to find my phone, and I realized I left it in your car on our last date. So I used that tracking service they have….."

"You stalked me!" Emma exclaimed incredulously, and Killian now felt his own disbelief bubbling.

"No, I just wanted to help you!" Emma's head snapped up from where it had been hung, and as her eyes began to brim with tears, Killian knew she'd detected his lie and his heart clenched.

"You didn't trust me. You keep telling me you love me and you'll fight for me, but you don't trust me. I can't believe this."

"Emma, I-" Neal tried to interrupt, but Emma held her hand up, having none of it.

"Do you know what you put me through?! 11 months in prison, pregnant! I loved you. I was alone and young and I didn't have anybody but you. And you left me. You left me so broken, and scared, and hating myself so much that I gave up my _son_! And through all that, I still love you. I was trying to trust you. But how can I do that when you won't? I can't, Neal, I can't!" by the end of her rant Emma had broken into sobs, and Neal stood helpless, arms outstretched. Killian's heart broke just watching her and now knowing what exactly it was that Baelfire had done to her. When she fell to her knees he couldn't take it anymore and rushed to her side. Before he could wrap his arms around her and tell her he understood, there was a sharp tug pulling him back and Bae giving him the death glare. Killian opened his mouth, a whole slew of profanities poised to strike as rage and protectiveness for the woman he loved clouded his judgement. But then he heard a loud thud, and both he and Bae turned to see Emma had leapt over the deck and was now running down the street, hair like lightning underneath the drab and dark gray sky. Killian made to go right after her, knowing very well the city streets were no place to be alone, but Bae held him back again.

"What's your bloody problem, mate?!" he spat as he spun around to face Bae. Though they were about the same height, Killian loomed threateningly over him in his anger; Bae was not fazed.

"You!" he barked. "I can't believe I did what I did, and I know it was wrong, but I just don't want Emma to be hurt!" he cried, eyeing Killian imploringly. Killian felt himself soften at the boy's words, growing slightly less rigid. "And I think we have a chance. To be together and a happy family with Henry." Killian nodded in understanding, not saying a word. "_But you!_" suddenly Bae's voice was rising faster than a tide and his eyes burned with accusation. "She stayed all night here, and I know because I followed her! I also know she wouldn't do what she could've done, but that's not the point! You're here, and _you're_ the point!" Killian cringed, every berating word flying out of Bae's mouth diminishing the self esteem and sense of purpose he'd felt flowing back since Emma came to him yesterday. "_You_ are in the way! Things were better when it was just us. We were having our issues, sure, but we would've worked through it. We _will_ work through it, as long as you stay out of the way! Because your feelings for her are only going to confuse her, and get in the way of her being happy, and hurt her! You are _nothing_ but a worthless pirate who wants to take even more from me!"

Killian's eyes remained on the ground until Bae's outburst was over, and then his head snapped up. The slashing of his words compared in no way to the anger and need to defend Emma rising up inside of him. And when Bae alluded to Milah, it all broke through. He stepped closer to Bae, instinctively beginning to lift his hook but lowering it as he didn't want to hit the other man. "No." The one word was spoken calmly and confidently, and Neal was clearly taken aback. "I am far more than a pirate, and far more than you will ever know of me Baelfire. I will not get out of 'your way'. Because there is no _way_. The path to Emma's heart is not through force and 'it's me's. It is through fighting. It isn't me you have to convince you are worthy of her love mate, it's Emma. I love her. I love her more than I thought could be possible, and with every beat of my battered old heart it grows. Emma needs someone willing to fight for her, to be selfless and put her above everything. I was doing that when she asked me to leave Storybrooke and I did. But were you, _are_ you, as you keep causing her pain? You're not fighting for her mate, you're fighting for _you_. And I'm probably nowhere near deserving of her, but she's a bloody hell of woman, and a woman I love. And whether you like it or not, I'm going after her." And with that Killian raced down the deck, jumping over the railing of the Roger and feet thudding against the concrete of land as he ran the way Emma had.

…..

Emma slowed to a walk on the street, wiping the tears from her face and sniffing as she hugged her jacket to her. It was too much, It was just all too much. Why did it always have to be her with the weight of the world on her shoulders? And how come whenever she was around Ki-_Hook, _she was always so vulnerable and open? _Damn pirate. Damn Neal. Damn magic bean and Peter Pan!_ She stormed down the empty side street, anger and sorrow swirling around her like a cloud. Out of the corner of her eye Emma could suddenly see a shadow, but before she could turn around she was shoved into an alley. She crashed into a dumpster, shoulder blade screaming with pain at the jar. She knew she had to confront her pursuer though, and stood as quickly as she could manage. Two large, rugged, burly men stood before her. One had greasy red hair that reached down to his shoulders, ginger stubble on his chin and grin filled with malice brimming across his pale face. The other had short, curly black hair, and was slightly larger than his counterpart, a large crooked nose with a long red scar streaking diagonally across it. He was clean-shaven, but dressed in the same rags as his friend looked no more respectable. Emma's gaze flitted briefly to his hand, a switchblade clearly visible.

The larger man grinned, showing several missing teeth, and spoke in a low grating voice. "Hi there, miss. I'm Craig and this is Devin, and we'll be mugging you today."

"Maybe something else too if you misbehave," Devin chuckled, licking his lips as his gaze leered up and down Emma. She suppressed a shiver, fear and worry rising in her. _Crap._ Under normal circumstances, thanks to her being a bailbondsperson, she would have had no problem defending herself from the creeps, but her shoulder was throbbing with pain and Devin had also drawn a blade, this one an intricate and probably stolen 6-inch dagger. _Okay, Emma, stall until they get lazy, then go for it,_ she told herself.

"Well, I'd prefer neither," she shrugged casually as she slid closer to the brick wall of the alley.

"So sad the same can't be said for us," Craig said, and he and Devin laughed. "Enough talk. Give us your money and anything else of value."

"Credit cards included," Devin added. They realized what she was doing and stood on either side of her, so that their bodies and broad shoulders effectively cut off any chance at escape. _Crap!_ Emma briefly considered her options, and when her shoulder reminded her of its state with a sharp pain, she stuck her hands in her pockets and dug around for money. Nothing. _Triple crap._ So she dropped her head and let out a brief, disappointed sigh before lashing out.

Her boot caught Devin's knee, a satisfying crack resounding as he squealed in pain and the dagger was thrown across the alley, clanging metallically to the ground. Craig roared and rushed at her with his knife poised, but Emma was ready. She was about to veer right while using her good arm to land a crippling punch to the bandit's outstretched arms, but as she made her move her feet were thrown away from underneath her, and the gravel was suddenly rushing forward to meet her face. She was able to spread her hands out in front of her so that her head was relatively uninjured, but then she realized she was being turned over by her boots. She wriggled and tried to break free, but Devin's grip on her legs was vice-like as he kneeled over her on the ground, and Craig grabbed her waist, knocking the breath from her as they lifted her up and shoved her against the wall.

"Feisty, eh?" Craig smiled, arms on either side of her and Devin blocking the alley exit. "I like that in a woman." Repulsed, Emma spit in his face, the saliva coming out reddened with blood from a cut in her cheek. Craig growled with anger and socked Emma in the face, dazing her as she realized the side of her eye was gently throbbing. Smiling again he leaned forward, and Emma could only kick weakly out against him as he put his nose to her hair and inhaled deeply. "This is going to be fun," he said, and as Emma's eyes widened with panic she could think of only one thing to do. She screamed, loud and pleading and defiant in the face of men who could easily kill her. Craig growled in anger again, Devin sneering behind him, and slapped Emma in the face. Tears beginning to swell unwillingly in her eyes, Emma struggled yet more in his grip, to no avail. Then he grinned and played with a strand of her hair. "So, we can do this the easy way or we can-" He was cut off by a loud "Oof!" behind him, and suddenly Devin was on the ground, blood oozing from a shallow gash in his side, shirt ripped. And then Craig was being sliced at, a shining silvery hook glinting as it came crashing down on him, Hook swinging around elegantly, rage evident in the stoicism of his face and the fire in his eyes. Craig dodged all but a glancing blow with surprising skill, and though Emma wished she could help, the force off being pushed up against the wall had made her shoulder unbearable, and all she could do was slump to the ground and cradle it, watching the fight before her. Craig had now gotten a hold somehow of Devin's dagger, and was expertly slashing at Hook's face and stomach. But the pirate danced away with amazing agility, staying just out of reach as he came closer and closer to striking Craig's throat with each swing of his metal appendage. When a lucky swipe at Hook's belly sliced part of his shirt, Emma's pain was overcome by a desire to do something, and she rose, looking around for anything that could help her. Seeing a brick lying on the ground amidst some filth, Emma's eyes lit up. _Bingo._ She stooped low and picked it up in one swift movement, ignoring the burn of her shoulder as she lifted it high above her head, extremely glad Craig was currently facing away from her, about two feet in front.

And so she stretched out her arm, crashing the brick straight down on the burly man's head. Groaning, he fell sideways to the ground, revealing Hook to Emma and vice versa. He sighed with relief when he saw her, and raced right over. His hand reached up her face, and Emma pulled away, not wanting to let him see her wounds. He used his thumb on her chin to bring her back to him, murmuring, "Emma, look at me." She did, seeing his blue eyes swimming with relief, protectiveness, and underlying anger, not directed at her. As he examined her new bruises she winced and let out a small curse, noticing his face grow rigid and eyes begin to burn with rage, almost swearing she saw them grow a shade darker as he growled malevolently, whipped around to face Craig, and lifted his hook above him, poised to strike the unconscious man right in the throat.

"Hook no!" Emma yelled, but the pirate paid her no mind, smiling wickedly as he was about to strike. "Killian!" Again, the use of his name made all the difference, and Killian turned to her, some of the softness returning to his eyes. "Don't," she whispered as she came forward and took him by the arm, walking them out of the alley. "He's not worth it." Killian, and Emma knew she would see him as Killian from now on, sighed with resignation, appearing to take strength from her presence. Little did he know how much he did the same for her. They were almost out of the alley, until Devin, roaring in indignation as one hand clutched his bleeding side, stretched the other out, pulling Emma's legs back, resulting in her almost being shaken to the ground. By the time Hook caught her and she kicked Devin away, it was already too late.

The bean.

The chain of the necklace holding the bean broke as Emma was jerked forward, and the magic portal maker flew from Emma's neck, rolling onto the ground. "No!" Emma and Killian screamed in unison as the ground began to swirl away, leaving only a twisting green pool of energy. The portal swirled, and Emma tried desperately to cling to the ground as it began to suck her in. Killian was next to her doing the same, but his hook couldn't grip the cement at all, and he wasn't able to hold on. He let go, but Emma reached out and grabbed his hand, unwilling to lose him. The extra weight seemed to add on the force pulling on them though, and Emma finally could hold on no longer. And quite suddenly the portal was pulling Emma and Killian inside and to who-knew-where. The last thing she heard above the roar of magic was Killian screaming her name.

_**Ooh! Don't you just love cliffhangers? Where in the world(s) are they going to end up!? Thanks so much for reading; I hope you enjoyed, and please favorite, follow and/or review. Reviews inspire me so much to write. And for those of you that follow my other multi-fic "Believe in Me", sorry it's taking so long to update, but I am having some extreme Writer's Block when it comes to the next chapter. Hopefully it'll get done soon. Again, thanks for reading!**_


	5. What A Wonderful World

Chapter Five: What A Wonderful World….Literally

…

_If your heart wears thin I will hold you up_

_And I will hide you when it gets too much_

_I'll be right beside you_

_I'll be right beside you_

_~Beside You, Marianas Trench_

….

Emma tried to concentrate, but all she saw before her eyes was green and all she could hear was the roar of magic, all she felt air around her like she was falling. The first time she went through a portal, a wraith had been holding on to her. Then Mary Margaret was with her and holding her close, and after that she'd clung to the ropes of the Jolly Roger for dear life. Now, with nothing but a vacuum around her, she felt utterly alone and ripped apart by the twisting and whirling of the portal. Until someone grasped her quite suddenly. She couldn't see him, but she knew Killian was there, and she felt him holding onto her. She clung to him right back, not even thinking as she pulled herself as closely as she could to him, facing the portal too large a task to do alone. Finally she felt herself jerked into a new atmosphere, air returning to her burnt out lungs and her spine colliding with the ground. Emma gasped in pain, the torture of her impact blowing away the shock of going through the portal. For a moment she couldn't think, completely uncertain of everything. And then she remembered: the bean, Storybrooke, Neal, Killian. She closed her eyes, not wanting to take in the scenery of this new place, tired and aching all over. She groaned as there was movement and something slid underneath her, making her spine burn.

She forced her eyes open, and saw Killian kneeling over her, expression concerned and trained on her face as he used the arm he'd slid under her back to help pull her up. "Ow!" she cried, trying to stand but her back sending an unbelievable shot of pain through her. Not to mention her still sore shoulder. Killian held a look of intense dismay at her lack of ability to move, and still not saying word wrapped his arms around her and began to lift her bridal-style. "What are you doing? I can walk! I can walk!" Emma slapped at his arms, but he looked at her with an expression that said he would have none of it and sighed as he began to walk.

"Darling, this is not the time to argue. You're hurt, and I won't have you walking around this place in pain. I am a gentleman after all, and where we are is far too dangerous for that," he told her, barely meeting her eyes and keeping his gaze focused ahead, so that Emma was basically speaking with his chiseled, stubbled chin.

"Where are we?" she asked, brows furrowing. She tried to take a look around her, but all she could see was a bright blue sky above her, her position and injuries impeding how far she could turn her head. "Please tell me it's Neverland; I need to find out what the hell is going on."

Killian scoffed above her, a humorless smile on his face as his eyes turned to simmer down at Emma. "Oh, we're not in Neverland, love. Lucky for you though, I've been here before. Don't know this particular area, but I'm sure I can find a place for us to rest without dying."

"Killian," Emma said warningly and slowly, angry she couldn't use her eyes to influence the pirate when he lifted his head back up. "Where. Are. We?" He sighed, as if the divulgence of their location were a burden he didn't want to share. Exhausted and annoyed, Emma resorted to insulting his form in order to get a good answer. "Are you going to lie to me?"

Killian huffed. "Of course not!" Then with a resigned sigh he looked down at her, expression apologetic. "We're in Wonderland."

…

Killian walked slowly and deliberately, knowing he was carrying something precious. Emma lay in his arms, her own around his neck and holding loosely since she'd fallen asleep and her muscles had lost their rigidness. When he'd told her they were in Wonderland she'd laughed and demanded to see her surroundings. A struggle ensued when he refused, but she was already so tired out she accepted his terms of letting her walk on her own after they found a safe place to rest without much fight. He'd also expected a barrage of questions, but apparently his Swan was too exhausted for that as well. She had to be to resign to falling asleep in his embrace. Of course, Killian didn't mind. He'd even had a grin on his face since he felt her grow looser in his arms and her breathing steady. It warmed him to think Emma trusted him that much. Or she was just extremely tired. Either way, despite the added weight, having her so close was uplifting to say the least, considering how long he'd been apart from her. Breaking himself from his reverie, Killian continued to survey his surroundings. The sky was an almost too-blue, stinging his eyes until he got used to it. He walked on a narrow dirt path, clearly not used often, and dense forest surrounded him on either side, the too-green foliage dotted with too-fluorescent mushrooms. "Ah, Wonderland," he sighed to himself. "Overdoing everything." When through a gap in a bush he could see a sunny clearing, Killian decided that would be as good a place as any to rest, and shrugged Emma as closely to him as he could without disturbing her as he moved to walk through the bush. She let out the smallest of whimpers, and he could see her eyes moving wildly beneath their lids, face creasing and grip on him tightening slightly. "Come now, darling," he murmured, realizing she was dreaming, and something that was probably less than pleasant. "It'll be alright." He brought his head close to her and whispered the words in her ear. When he pulled back up he could visibly see her face soften and grow more relaxed, eyes moving less wildly, but her arms pulling even tighter around him. Killian didn't mind at all, and took extreme care to make sure no foliage even brushed her as he trudged through the vegetation and made their way into the clearing. The grass was soft and springy, and it seemed the colors were dimmer and more tranquil here, giving his eyes a much needed break. Stifling a yawn, Killian realized he was quite tired as well, and he almost stumbled as he stepped forward, his heart stopping as he realized he could have dropped his Swan.

Gently he went over to a rock near the center of the clearing and knelt, slowly dipping Emma onto the grass and keeping his hand behind her head, holding it slightly above the rock. Realizing he needed it to give her a better place to rest her head than the rugged granite, he placed her satin hair there for a moment. Killian shrugged off his long leather coat and began to move it around, cursing in frustration as he tried to fold it, the small action proving to be quite difficult for his one hand and hook. After several growls of profanity, whispered as to not wake Emma, and many failed attempts, Killian had managed mold the jacket into a respectable square. Balancing it on his hook after facing it sideways, he used his hand to lift Emma's head again and tenderly placed the coat behind it, hoping it would be a suitable pillow. He then took a look at the sky, realizing it had become dark, and the sun had nearly completely disappeared beyond the horizon. Sighing, Killian leaned back against the rock and reached for his flask. When he didn't feel it in its usual place at his belt he groped around his person for it, realizing after a moment of profanity-slewing that it wasn't there. _Damn it_, he thought. _Always having rum on my ship led me to not keeping it on my person._ But looking over at Emma, he figured he didn't need rum, nor want it, to numb the deep and burning love he felt at the sight of her. Just being so close made him feel complete. The deep resonating ache she'd left him with faded away the instant he saw her again, and he completely forgave her. Emma was a woman with emotional walls miles high, like the ones he used to have until she came along and he lost all desire to hide himself. _I can do the same for you, Emma. And I will._ Sighing with contentedness, Killian relaxed against the rock, the rugged sharpness of it not even an annoyance to his proximity to Emma as he flipped a lock of hair behind her head in his signature gesture and leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head and breathing deeply. Despite his exhaustion, Killian didn't dare fall asleep, his eyes unable to move away from Emma and himself determined to keep her safe through the night, whatever that may entail.

…

Emma was in a dark, foggy place. She whirled around and stretched her arms out, but gray vapor was the only thing that greeted her, accompanied by a wicked, triumphant, grating laughter. "Stop!" she screamed, covering her ears. But still the laughter persisted, echoing all around her, eyes she couldn't see burning into her and causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end. "Stop!" she screamed again desperately out into the mist, and it cleared slightly, enough for her to see a scene unfold before her. Peter Pan was standing on a boulder, laughing his head off, rolling on his belly and causing the gag worthy sound to bounce off of Emma's ears. He noticed Emma and smiled mischievously as he stood on his rock. Fixing her with an icy, all-knowing glare, he snapped his fingers and the mist cleared more to reveal her family and friends. Her parents were huddled in each other's embrace, smiling as they caressed each other, Ariel and Eric and Gold and Belle doing the same, with Regina and Neal standing by Henry. They were looking at her son with love and each of them had a hand on his shoulder, while the little boy smiled welcomingly at Emma. There was Killian there as well, leaning casually against something obscured by the fog, smiling warmly at Emma and waving over to her. Emma almost cried at the heartwarming scene, but Pan reminded her of his presence with another sick chortle.

"What's the gloat about, Chuckles?" Emma asked, leaning to one side and putting her arm on her hip, the people around her giving her newfound strength in the sea of uncertainty.

"This," he replied as he snapped his fingers again and doubled over laughing his truly happy-to-be-evil laugh. Suddenly everyone around fell to the ground and started flailing in pain. Her parents and the other couples clung to each other desperately as their bodies spasmed with pain and their mouths opened in silent screams. Regina and Neal buckled to the ground and gripped it as the pain made their veins pop from their skin, Henry falling between them, doing the same, his face even turning crimson. Killian was on his knees, hook supporting him as his body was ridden with clear agony, but one hand outstretched to Emma, eyes wild and desperately pleading.

"No!" Emma cried as she tried to run forward to them. But the fog began to fall on her again, and though she ran through it blindly she couldn't find her family. "Henry! Killian! Dad, Mom!" she called and called, but no one answered, and she felt her throat becoming too sore to speak, until the only thing that came out was pathetic squeaks. She fell to the ground, tears streaming from her eyes as screams began to echo around her, undoubtedly from her family and friends. The loudest was Henry's, higher than the others, one unfamiliar to such pain and so shocked by it he could only screech. _Henry._ She said his name silently to herself as she sobbed. And then Pan could be heard quite clearly, his triumphant laugh even louder than the screams. "No!" Emma tried to scream, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to run from the fog, flailing around helplessly, knowing she wasn't getting anywhere. "NO! No, no! No! NO!" Her eyes flew open and suddenly she was screaming and erratically moving her limbs around. Her head was resting on a plush surface, and she was propped up against a rock in the middle of a clearing lit by moonlight. None of it made any sense to her though, Pan's laughter and most everyone she cared for's screams still reverberating in her ears. She could hear more screaming as well as she shook and thrashed, not realizing that it was coming from her.

Quite suddenly though Killian was by her side, trying to calm her and stop her from moving about so wildly. Despite him moving her arms to her side she tried to hit him, irrational in her post-nightmare fear. Unfazed, he changed tack and grabbed her, pulling her close and holding her tight. She tried to squirm, but his voice broke through to her. "It's okay, Emma. You're safe. You'll be safe. I'm right here. It'll be alright, love. It'll be alright." He sounded as if he was on the verge of tears, but Emma was already past it, and when she stopped struggling she sobbed violently into his chest, unable to take the images of everyone around her dying and her helpless to stop it out of her head. Killian just continued to speak to her softly, not all the words registering in her head but his familiar voice chasing away the screams and hideous laughter that had shaken her to the core only moments before. She continued to weep in his arms, until it wasn't just about her nightmare, but about all the pain and frustration she had bottled up inside letting itself out, her emotional walls no match against the flood. Killian just gripped her tighter, rubbing her back and rocking her back and forth, being nothing but soothing and kind. Emma finally ran out of tears after what seemed like hours, and all she did was close her eyes once more, too tired and defeated and open to remember that she shouldn't want Killian there and so close to her, just grateful for the warmth and steadfast support as she fell asleep in his arms.

_**Not much plot movement, but hey, character development! I wanted to get out two chapters today, but I'm having some real trouble with the next one, so it probably won't be out until tomorrow. Thanks for reading, and please favorite, follow, and/or review!**_


	6. So Many Wishes Away

Chapter Six: So Many Wishes Away

….

_You look at me_

_I'm your mirror_

_I see your solitude_

_I'm your parachute_

_When you fall through the night_

_And the shades try to get you_

_I will be around_

_Time after time_

_I'm gonna catch you_

_I won't let you down_

_~Half A Dream Away, Blind_

….

When Killian woke, the bright colors of Wonderland assaulted his eyes almost immediately, but he looked down and couldn't take his eyes off of the blonde who was also stirring awake as she lay in his arms. He loosened his grip on her, smiling contentedly as he watched her yawn and wake. She'd had a terrible nightmare last night and cried herself to sleep by his side. Now, her tears were dry and hair tousled as she yawned and opened her eyes. In a few seconds she realized her compromising position cuddled next to him and snapped around, eyes latching on his. He smiled reassuringly, and she seemed to calm, slowly moving away as she stood and brushed herself off. "Sorry," she murmured, almost a whisper.

"No apologies necessary," Killian argued, lifting his hand and hook plaintively as he himself stood. "Now, shall we continue?"

"Where exactly are we going?" Emma asked.

"Where do you wish to go? Storybrooke or Neverland?"

At this her brows furrowed in thought, and Killian leaned back against the boulder as she thought aloud. "We need to get to Neverland first and foremost, to figure out what the hell is going on and rescue Ariel-"

"If she's alive," Killian mentioned with a gesture of his hand, and Emma's shoulders drooped a little. _She and the mermaid must be friends,_ he thought as he stifled a snarl. _I guess it's alright if this one isn't, or wasn't, an untrustworthy liar._

"Yeah," she continued. "But if Pan really does have his powers back, then it would be suicide to go straight to Neverland, just the two of us."

"Good point, lass," Killian nodded. "How about first we gather our transportation options? Cora used to rule over part of this land, as the Queen of Hearts. She had a hatter-"

"Named Jefferson?"

"Yes," Killian agreed slowly. "You know him?"

Emma huffed. "Yeah, we've met. Let's just say I'm not gonna argue with the 'Mad Hatter' sentiment."

Despite the urge to know more about her experience with Jefferson, Killian swallowed his curiosity and continued. "Yes, well, he had a daughter, and he wanted to get back to her. There were no other ways known to get out of Wonderland, at least to Cora. So she let him fiddle in making hats, trying to get one to work."

"And they were magic hats that would create a portal," Emma finished. "But they only let you travel to magical realms."

"Does not Storybrooke have magic now, thanks to the Crocodile?" Killian shrugged, and Emma nodded fervently.

"You're right! Then there's no time to waste! Let's get to the Hatter's house or whatever immediately!"

"I'd love to, love, but as I said before I don't exactly recognize this area. We'll need to get to high ground; someplace where I can gain some bearings. Is that alright?"

She sighed in frustration but nodded. "Lead the way." And with that they began to walk through the bright forest, sun shining and fluffy white clouds dancing across a blue canvas of sky, as a pair of glowing blue eyes peered out from darkness and laughed.

…

Emma walked quietly alongside Killian, wanting to tell him to speed up but still aching and glad of the manageable pace. They soldiered on along one of the forest's many dirt paths, companionable silence comfortably enveloping them. The vegetation and many mushrooms around them seemed too colorful and animated to be real, but Emma knew they were. Just as she knew, no matter how much her stomach wanted to eat itself at the moment, she couldn't have even one bite of any of the mushrooms; she wouldn't want to grow or shrink out of her clothes, especially not in such a dangerous environment, and not in front of such a flirtatious pirate. Of course, they could be useful in certain situations, so she'd stuffed a few chunks into her pockets, not an inkling of what they could do to her. _It's not like they have 'Eat Me' labels_, she internally muttered. Suddenly she was jolted from her thoughts by the cold metal of Killian's hook on her arm, stopping her. He was standing rigidly still, expression cool and calculating.

"What is it?" she hissed.

"Listen," he whispered back, and Emma strained her ears. Just above the calls of foreign songbirds, she could make out the alarming snapping of twigs and scraping of bodies through foliage.

"Run," they said as they turned to each other in unison. And suddenly they were were both pelting through the the trees, leaping off of the path. Emma thought she might have trouble keeping up, or have to slow down to keep in step with Killian, but her adrenaline made her forget her sore muscles completely, and she ran with Killian side by side, each matching the other step for step, panting as they galloped along through thorns and leaves and narrowly dodged several tree trunks. But the steps were still getting closer, and Emma could now see figures dressed in dark camouflage that seemed to be pursuing them…. and gaining. _Faster, faster, faster_ were the only words Emma heard in her head, visions of Henry fueling her as she ran. Suddenly though there was a log on the ground, one that Killian notified her of by grabbing her hand as they made to jump. But unexpectedly there was two blurred figures in front of them, and they rolled and crashed right into the people. As Emma flew through the air and thumped onto the dirt, she could only make out Killian's leather. "Bloody hell!" she heard two voices curse in unison as she spit out dirt and shuffled to her feet as quickly as she could. One voice clearly belonged to Killian with his unmistakable accent, but there was another, also belonging to someone with a rich English accent, also climbing to his feet as Emma helped Killian up. There was a woman who'd also clashed with them and leapt up just as Killian pulled out his sword on them. The woman was slender, shoulder length raven hair with bangs and a clever face at the center of which were dark hazel eyes. She wore dark, rag-like camouflaged clothing. The man, however, was dressed in black pants, a gray shirt and black leather jacket. He had large, deep brown eyes, big ears and brown hair that was cut in a sharp fashion, overall pretty easy on the eyes. Emma paid none of this any notice though, because she recognized this man, whose companion had now drawn a dagger on Emma and Killian.

"I know you," Emma said slowly as she took a step forward. The woman stiffened and glanced at the man, and Killian did the same with Emma.

The man's eyes lit up with recognition before he outright lied. "What? No, I've never seen you before in me life!"

"Liar," Emma smiled. "You were in Storybrooke!"

"Will?" the woman seemed unsure. "Is this true?"

"Well, Liz, uh, maybe a little."

"I knew it!" Emma exclaimed.

"Can he be trusted?" Killian asked, sword still trained on Will.

"That depends," Emma said, standing in the most intimidating stance she could. "Who are you and why are you here?"

"The name's Will Scarlett," he said with an exaggerated bow. "Though I also go by the Knave of Hearts. I'm only here to help my friend Alice, who I seem to have misplaced, and who Liz is helping me get back to. Afterwards, I hope to get back to your Storybrooke, Sheriff, and a normal life."

"You and us both, mate," Killian loosened as he lowered his sword, and Will nodded to Liz to do the same.

"What if they're working with Jafar?" Liz hissed, but Will shook his head.

"Jafar doesn't even know about Storybrooke. And I've heard so much about Emma here, that I'm pretty sure she's incorruptible." Emma smiled slightly at the compliment.

"We need to either get back to Storybrooke or to Neverland. How did you get here?" Killian asked.

"A white rabbit dug a hole," Will said. "But Jafar has him now. I came to help Alice get her true love Cyrus back, but we got, er, separated. Jafar has him held captive so that he can get Alice to use up all her wishes and Cyrus will be his."

"So… Cyrus is a genie, and Jafar wants to use him for his own nefarious purposes?" Killian asked, though Emma was barely past the _Jafar _part. _Isn't this the wrong movie for that?_ Will nodded to Killian's deductions with a warm smile, but Emma knew they didn't have time for formalities.

"So how can we get to where we want to go?"

"The Rabbit can take you," Liz said. "But first we need to get him from Jafar."

"You two are lucky that's on our way," Will said with a shrug, and then looked behind him. "Looks like we lost the bounty hunters that are after us. Let's go, shall we?" Liz and Will began to walk confidently forward, but Killian waited, looking at Emma for confirmation.

"Do you want to do it this way?" he asked softly. Emma put her hands to her temples and shook her head, knowing he knew it wasn't an answer, but her clearing her head. _We don't even know where we are,_ she thought. _This is our best shot._ When she looked back at Killian he'd been nodding, and she realized she'd voiced her thoughts aloud. "Alright, love," the pirate said with a seductive grin and lick of his lips. "Ready for another adventure?"

…..

Killian walked closely beside Will, completely aware of Emma's eyes on his back as she lagged slightly behind, Liz in the front of them. She was probably a bit envious of how quickly he and the Knave had warmed up to each other.

"So," Killian began. "Why are you really doing this? You seem a lot like a thief to me, and thieves never do anything for free."

Will gulped. "Too right speculation mate. And you're a pirate, clearly." He purposely looked Killian up and down and he chuckled in resignation, lifting his hook in an offhanded threat.

"Too true. But you still didn't answer the question."

Will smirked. "I want to get in the good books of the Sheriff of my future place of residence. And Alice has taught me that doing the right thing has it's rewards." Killian nodded slowly, and walked on more relaxedly, a question from Will raising his eyebrows. "Do you also go by Captain Hook?"

Killian smiled charmingly and replied, "Glad to know so many have heard of me!" Will laughed.

"I'm glad to have heard of you," he said, his voice then dropping to a whisper. "Can I ask you something else, mate?"

Killian also lowered his voice, and walked closer to the other man. "What?"

"I'm only asking because I've never seen you around Storybrooke, but how long have you two been together?" The question hit him like a shock wave, and Killian had to blink a couple of times to think of an answer.

"Wh-what?"

"Bloody hell, mate, it's a bit obvious. You look at her every minute or so and you were running back there like one person. I've been around enough love to recognize it."

"Bugger off," Killian muttered as his answer, picking up his pace and trying to avoid Will. But the persistent knave also sped up.

"Why's it such a big deal?" he asked, taken aback by Killian's abrasiveness. He ignored the man and kept walking purposefully, but he just kept on getting irritated. Finally, he let out a hiss of defeat.

"I do love Emma, yes," he said. "But she doesn't exactly feel the same way. We were starting to have something, a while ago, but then there was another man, the father of her son." His voice turned into a bitter snarl as he continued. "She didn't choose him, but she did choose. And it was clear that choice didn't include me. So I left. But then she needed my help, and somehow all of this happened."

Will whistled sympathetically. "I prefer to stay out of matters of the heart. Of course, for me it's not that hard."

"Why is that?" Will seemed to realize he'd said too much, and wouldn't answer. So Killian repeated the question, more slowly and menacingly. "Why is that, Knave?"

"Because I don't have a heart," Will mumbled with his head down, and Killian gasped. Would he ever do that, to avoid the pain of heartbreak? _No,_ he knew. Because that would mean he would live empty inside, without any of the emotions Emma made him feel, without any of the hope; and he couldn't do that again.

"We're here," Liz said suddenly, just as Killian was about to ask Will how he'd lost his heart.

"Where Alice and the Rabbit are?" Emma asked as she came to stand beside Killian with a stoic expression, and he stifled the smile that threatened to spread across his face just from seeing her face.

"No," Liz replied. "Where we'll figure out where they are. Alice was captured by Jafar, and his lair is shielded by magic. This person will show us where we can find them."

"And who resides here?" Killian asked.

Will gulped and seemed to brace himself before voicing a name that sent shivers down Killian's spine, despite not knowing it. "Baba Yaga."

**_YAY, Once in Wonderland characters (Will and Liz). Even if you don't watch the spin-off, I hope I explained enough for this to not be confusing. And oooh, Baba Yaga! If you don't know who that is, you might want to find out, but all shall be revealed soon! Please favorite, follow, and/or review (especially review!) and thanks for reading!_**


	7. The Happy Little Hut

Chapter Seven: The Happy Little Hut

…

_I'll follow you down through the eye of the storm_

_Don't worry I'll keep you warm._

_I'll follow you down while we're passing through space_

_I don't care if we fall from grace_

_I'll follow you…_

_~I'll Follow You, Shinedown_

….

"Baba Yaga," Emma repeated, the name striking a familiar chord she couldn't quite place with the sight in front of her fighting against all rational thought. They'd emerged out of a last copse of green trees that were bright as she'd come to know as the fashion of Wonderland. Now in front of them the trees were bare of leaves, like skeletal hands clawing out of the earth from the fire and brimstone of their home. The trunks were a deep ebony, bark etched into strange grooves. The four of them stood on the last inch of green grass, before it turned into not only dead, stringy masses, but gray and drab as well. About forty feet into the strange and grim place was a hut, hard to make out in great detail but clearly old and decrepit, square windows without glass and shreds of black cloth serving for curtains. A rotting door of peeling ebony wood was in the center in between the two windows, and the roof looked to be made of really old thatch.

"How cheery," Liz said.

"You colorblind?" Will asked, gulping loudly.

"My version of cheery involves lots of ale and several beautiful women not wearing much clothing, and I'd say this falls far short," Killian added, and Emma rolled her eyes, glad that the foreboding vibe seemed less when she remembered she wasn't alone.

"So, are you sure this Baba Yaga will help us?" Emma asked. "What will he know?"

"She," Liz corrected. "And I'm sure. I've never actually met her, but her power is known across realms. Seeing Baba Yaga is something few can claim to have done and lived, and all pretenders find themselves in deep trouble. She's very reclusive."

"Yeah, and she eats children!" Will exclaimed, and Emma's eyes widened. Sighing, he wiggled his shoulders and stood straighter. "Right then. We'd better get going, eh?"

"Right," Emma nodded, and realized that everyone had their eyes on her, waiting for her to move onto the drab grass first. Letting out a shaky breath, Emma wondered if she should be doing this. Just as she was about to step back Killian's hand slipped into hers and his sultry voice whispered against her ear.

"Think of Henry," he told her, and Emma did. With renewed vigor and a shot of courage she started forward, hand moving out of Killian's and balling into a determined fist at her side. As soon as she stepped onto the strange grass a strange feeling passed over her, gone almost as soon as it had swept over her. She marched onward, and was about 30 feet from the suspiciously silent hut when she realized her companions weren't at her side.

"Killian? Will? Liz?" she questioned as she whipped around, seeing them rooted to the spot, their feet barely past the green grass. Each of them were clearly straining to move, their veins popping from the skin, but they stood there paralyzed. "What's going on?"

"A protection spell darling," a silky, singsong yet chilling voice sounded behind her, and Emma whirled on her heel to face a strange woman who was leaning against the frame of the hut's door. She was short, and would come up to Henry's shoulder. She had strange leathery looking skin as gray as a cloudy sky, and spindly, bony arms and legs. Her knobby knees could just barely be seen under the mossy green rag of a dress she was wearing, that had brown stains on the stomach. Her face held an ageless quality, shaped like a cantaloupe, scars stemming vertically from her chapped lips. She had matted, light brown hair that went down well past her shoulders but stopped above her waistline, with leaves and twigs tangled up in it. She had small, scraggly thin lines of eyebrows, with piercing bright yellow eyes. Her long, less bright yellow fingernails gripped the frame of the door and her bare, large feet tapped on the ground. She smiled, revealing a mostly toothless mouth with large pink gums and a few black teeth scattered across them. "You must be very powerful to be able to resist the paralysis so well. Maybe your friends will be the only ones for the stew pot."

"What?" Emma was still staring at the cool and piercing eyes of the little woman. "Are you Baba Yaga?"

The woman clucked her tongue and licked her lips, her eyes taking on a darkly amused tint. "Is that the answer you're really searching for, Emma? Or is it something else?"

"You know my name!"

"I know many a thing, for I am Baba Yaga. And Baba Yaga lets very few enter here and leave, without first passing through my digestive tract." She laughed, a loud, raucous sound somewhere between a cackle and a violent cough, that reminded Emma of the caterwauling of a cat.

"We need your help," Emma said after shaking her head to clear it of the thinly veiled threat. She really did need Baba Yaga's help if she hoped to save her family, and as long as the creepy old hag didn't actually try to eat her comrades she was okay.

Baba Yaga smiled again. "Yes, that's right. You don't beat around the bush; I like that. Let's go inside, shall we, and discuss what you need my assistance with?"

"Don't. Trust...her," Killian gasped behind her, but when Emma turned to look his jaw was shut tight, eyes pleading.

"Ooh!" Baba Yaga squealed with delight, rubbing her hands together and darting forward to where Killian was so quickly she was just a blur in Emma's vision. His expression toughened and he met her gleeful gaze defiantly. She brought her calloused hand up to his temple and brushed her fingers across his face with an appreciative hum. "You're a brave one, aren't you?" Emma stiffened as Baba Yaga continued to murmur to herself and traced Killian's features, worry flourishing inside of her.

"Leave him alone," she said to Baba Yaga, silently cursing when her voice came out far more desperate than she intended, and out of the corner of her eye she noticed the Knave raise his eyebrows. Baba Yaga whipped her head around to look at Emma, skin creasing in thought and her nails stiffening as they gripped Killian's chin and cheek.

"Oh, I see, I see," she chortled. "His love can overcome the spell, if only for a short time. _You_ are made of love. Love, love, love, lovelovelovelove…." Her eyebrows furrowed more and her eyes became unfocused. "Hogswash! My protection spell's weakness is love! How can I fix that?" She turned to Killian, eyes back in focus but with a controlled madness that unnerved Emma. "What do you think I can do?" Killian did not speak but in slow motion and with great effort he spit on Baba Yaga's palm where she held his face. Hissing she pulled away, dragging her nails across Killians cheek and jawline in the process, leaving long red gashes in the left of his face.

"Hey!" Emma yelled as she stepped forward, but Baba Yaga was already right in front of her before she could react.

"Tsk, tsk," she tutted. "Your big, dumb, guard dog doesn't play nice. I think he'll have to stay outside."

Killian began mumbling in protest, but his mouth was still shut and Emma couldn't hear him. Besides, she needed Baba Yaga's aid, and if she didn't cooperate who knew what could happen to Storybrooke. "Fine. But Will and Liz come."

"The Knave and the Lizard? Very well," Baba Yaga conceded, and with a wave of her hand Will and Liz fell to the ground, their newfound ability to move overwhelming them. Emma rushed to their sides and helped to lift them up.

"We have to be careful around her. She's mad, and very moody," Liz warned in a whisper. "At least according to the stories.

"Aye, so basically she's a batty hag!" Will whispered, and Emma and Liz chuckled slightly as the three followed Baba Yaga towards her hut. Before she went inside Emma cast a last backward glance at Killian, his face screaming warnings at her. Gulping and casting him an apologetic yet determined face, Emma turned and followed Liz and Will inside, Baba Yaga closing the door behind them.

The hut wasn't very large, and 4 people was enough to crowd it. There was a bed with old musty-looking sheets and pillows on it in the corner, and aside from that a large ebony wood stove were the only amenities. The rest of the hut was covered with strange artifacts. An entire wall was filled with spell books, most bound in chains and several making unearthly noises, quite a few dripping fluid, pus, or blood from their pages. Then the rest of the hut was filled with books and cauldrons with many different items. In one Emma could see dozens of wands she speculated once belonged to fairies, and in most of the others that she could see were bones, animal _and_ human, and dead insects. The hut smelled strongly of mold, and Emma fought the urge to gag with all her might, Liz's green face making it clear she was having the same problem. "Now, now," Baba Yaga murmured as she practically dived into one of the cauldrons and began throwing skulls out of it. One almost hit Emma in the face, but Will knocked it away and she cast him a grateful smile. "Ah!" exclaimed the witch triumphantly, pulling out an object that almost made Emma snort with laughter as she blew the dust off of it.

"So much for discouraging the clichés," she muttered as she stared at the crystal ball, and Baba Yaga shot her a reproachful look.

"It improves my clairvoyance," she justified as she emptied a cauldron filled with rabbit feet and turned it over, placing the ball on the overturned bottom. "Come closer now," she motioned, and Emma and her company kneeled in a circle beside Baba Yaga around the crystal ball. "Now, what do you wish to know?"

"Where Alice and the Rabbit are being kept," Will said, and Emma nodded.

"Very well," Baba Yaga said. "I'll need your hand, Knave." Will offered his palm to her, and she grabbed his hand, slicing it with her nail.

"Oi," he cried and tried to pull away, but Baba Yaga's grip held firm.

"I need your blood to see," she explained as she brought his palm to her mouth and her tongue slicked out, dragging across it. His face contorted into one of repulsion and disgust, and Emma shared an amused glance with Liz. Baba Yaga's eyelids fluttered and her head shot in the direction of the ceiling, the pupils of her eyes dilating so that they looked completely black for a moment. Then she took a deep breath and the yellow returned to her eyes as they locked with Will's. "She is being kept by that amateur Jafar."

"I know that," he said, now earnest. "But where?"

"To the north," Baba Yaga said, and waving her hand produced a pouch out of midair, handing it to Will. He opened it and showed Liz and Emma that it was full of white dust. "When you reach the sea, throw this dust into the air, and his lair will be revealed. But it is up to you to find your way inside."

"Alright," Emma said. "Thanks." They were all about to get up when Baba Yaga suddenly grabbed her arm.

"Don't you want to know where to go? Storybrooke or Neverland?" Emma opened and closed her mouth, trying to find the words to reply, but not succeeding in the least. After a moment she nodded to Will and Liz and kneeled back down, offering her palm to Baba Yaga, who shook her head with another smile, instead plucking a couple strands from Emma's head. Stifling a cry of surprise, Emma watched as Baba Yaga put one strand aside and stuck the other in her mouth. _Ew_, Emma thought as the woman's head shot in the direction of the ceiling again and her eyes turned completely black. Her body even shook slightly, and when she was finally back to normal she was breathing heavily. "Peter Pan is back, and more powerful than ever before. He is now wholly consumed with vengeance. If you do not stop him soon then your precious Storybrooke and everyone you care for will be destroyed."

"Should I go to Storybrooke first to-"

"No. Stop Pan as soon as possible. There is only one thing that can stop him now, and it is another quest in and of itself."

"What? What is it?" Now very earnest, Emma needed to know how it was she could save Storybrooke.

"The Vorpal Blade. Its location has long since been lost, even to me, but you will find it. Follow your current path to Jafar's lair, and the way to the Blade will be revealed there."

"Okay," Emma said with renewed vigor as she nodded and leapt up. "Okay, thank you so much!" She grabbed both Liz and Will by the arms and ran out of the hut with them, jogging merrily towards Killian. When she reached his side she touched his shoulder tentatively and the contact seemed to lift the paralysis' hold on him. He fell to the ground with shaky breaths, brushing himself off and standing with a smile after a moment. "We've got a lot to do," she told him with a smile as the four began to walk towards the green grass. But they were interrupted by a yell behind them. When Emma turned around, Baba Yaga was in the doorway with her arms crossed.

"Uh uh," she said. "You owe me payment."

"Okay," Emma shrugged. "What do you want?"

With a devilish smile, Baba Yaga voiced her demand. "One of you."

"No!" Emma objected, incredulous.

"I _will _have one of you, or all of you. Your choice," Baba Yaga said matter-of-factly.

"I'll stay," Liz volunteered bravely with a sad smile. "No one's counting on me."

"No!" everyone cried in unison. "No one's staying with this witch," Emma declared, causing Baba Yaga to smile again.

"Have it your way," she conceded nonchalantly, her face then growing twisted with dark mirth as she snapped her fingers and the ground began to tremble. Emma fell to the ground, and just as she pushed her hair out of her face she could see the hut begin to shake and move as a loud groan came from the ground. It rose, dirt and moss flying until the the hut was 20 feet above the ground, supported by giant legs like that of a chicken. From the doorway Baba Yaga screeched with laughter and pointed Emma, the hut roaring and beginning to move forward. _Crap_. "Guys?" Emma said.

"Yeah?" Killian, Will, and Liz responded with awestruck voices.

"Run!"

_**Baba Yaga is a real tale, and she really does have a hut with chicken legs, so at least you know that that came from someone else's crazy imagination. Thank you so much to everyone who has followed, favorite and reviewed. You inspire so much and I just hope the story is good enough for you. Ends of the Earth has also been added to a Community! Don't know exactly what that means but I'm pretty sure it's a good thing, and it's all thanks to my wonderful readers. Thanks so much, and watch out for the next chapter!**_


	8. Find Us

Chapter Eight: Find Us

_**OK, so one thing I'd like to mention is that I seriously (a little after posting my Thanksgiving story) just figured out that you can REPLY TO REVIEWS! I guess that means I'm a lot more stupid than I thought I was, but it also means I'll be trying to reply to all the reviews I get from now on, so keep writing them and keep reading! Thanks so much!**_

Snow's breath came out in wisps as she stood by her husband and they looked out into the forest before them. Coming to her side, a man with an oversized hat and large coat studied her face warily.

"Your majesty," he asked. "Are you ready to send the bird?"

With a quick and deep breath Snow nodded, glad of her True Love's arm around her shoulder. Another man trotted over to them.

"I still think we should send actual people," said he.

"Pfft," Jefferson sneered. "Sure Neal. You're just guilty about being an ass and making Hook and Emma leave."

"That's not how it happened!" Neal cried indignantly. "But do you really think Emma's going to take it on the word of a bluebird that Storybrooke is destroyed and we fled to the Enchanted Forest?!"

Charming held up his hand for silence, and the two bickerers halted in pulling each other's hair. Snow wrapped up the piece of parchment in her gloved hands carefully, and tied it with a silk ribbon. She whistled softly and held out one of her hands, and in seconds a small bluebird had perched on her finger. Snow used another ribbon to delicately tie the parchment to the tiny feet of the bird, and then tenderly cupped it in her hands. "Jefferson?" she motioned to the ground before her and Jefferson obediently took off his hat and tossed it somewhat carelessly there.

"Nice way to treat your new hat," Neal murmured, and Jefferson shot him a reproachful glare. a small whirlpool of air began whisking around from the hat, tousling Snow's hair and cape and causing the bluebird to twitter nervously. Snow whispered soothing words as she knelt down by the portal coming from the hat.

"Find Emma. Tell her to _find us_," she whispered into the feathers of the bluebird before releasing it and watching as it flew into the darkness of the portal.


	9. Dungeon of Doom

Chapter Nine: Dungeon of Doom

…

_Like ships in the night_

_You keep passing me by_

_We're just wasting time_

_Trying to prove who's right_

_And if it all goes crashing into the sea_

_If it's just you and me_

_Trying to find the light_

_~Ships in the Night, Matt Kearney_

…..

Emma's chest heaved as she ran through the trees, no sense of direction except for the arrow in her head pointing away from the chicken hut. She could hear Baba Yaga roaring with laughter behind her, and the ground shook with each thundering step the hut took. Beside her ran Liz, and slightly behind and to the left were Killian and Will. The vibrations the chicken feet of the hut made grew louder and more ground shaking, and out of her peripheral vision Emma could see the edge of the thatched roof. _Crap,_ she thought. _This is it_, when suddenly the vibrations stopped and Baba Yaga screamed in irritation. As she ran a bit farther Emma slowed down, panting heavily and looking behind her to see that Baba Yaga had stopped where her hut wouldn't fit between two particularly large tree trunks. Though she was far away Emma could feel the hag's eyes burning into her and suddenly heard her voice in her head, knowing the witch had somehow transported it magically. _You're not alone,_ she cackled in Emma's brain. _You're not alone and that's not a good thing. Remember my dear, you can't trust anyone. __**Anyone.**_

"You alright Emma?" Killian's hand on her shoulder and worried voice snapped the echoes of Baba Yaga away from her, but Emma's stomach churned at her words and doubt of her companion quickly gnawed at her core, settling and taking root deep inside. _What are his real motives? Does he really care? Maybe this is all some twisted plot for Pan to get the Vorpal Blade and he's been in on it all along. What about Will? Or Liz? What do we-I-really know about them? Maybe Baba Yaga saw betrayal in my future. Why would she lie? She hasn't yet._

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied tonelessly, avoiding Killian's gaze and the taken aback expression on his face, instead turning to Will. "How far are we from the sea?"

Will opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by Killian, who had a hurt and confused look on his face. "We're extremely close. That run brought us within an hour's trek of it."

"How do you know?" asked Emma suspiciously; she specifically remembered him not saying he knew this area. Killian looked yet again taken aback, but the face disappeared so quickly Emma wondered if it was ever there, replaced with a sad smile and faraway look in his eyes.

"The sea. She calls to me. I can smell her on the wind." He breathed deeply, seeming to take in something that was too small for Emma to perceive, or too great, and started off in a seemingly random direction. Narrowing her eyes, Emma cautiously followed what she deemed a safe distance behind.

…..

Killian stood out on edge of the cliff, blue water stretching out before him as far as he could see. As glad as he was to be near the ocean, they had a purpose, and he turned to Will. "Got the dust?" he asked, and Will smiled as he held up the pouch. Killian noticed how apprehensively Emma was watching him, and when she caught him staring she glared daggers at him; daggers that went straight to his heart. Something had happened, in between when they got out of Baba Yaga's hut and now, that had put her walls up faster than the Jolly Roger sails, and reinforced them with doubt and mistrust that made them more obvious than ever. _What's wrong, Swan?_ Killian thought earnestly as he watched her watch Will take the powder out in a handful. _I thought you trusted me._ He looked back at Will just as the clever knave threw the dust into the air. Instead of just falling, it settled there for a moment and sparkled in the sunlight before shooting straight ahead and just on the horizon, where the sea was moments before, revealed a huge fortress.

"Whoa," Liz said.

"How do we get across?" Emma asked with a frown on her face, and Killian realized their major error. _How do we cross the sea without a boat?_

"Well," he began. "It looks about 5 miles away. Can any of you swim 5 miles?" When he was met with 3 agape faces, Killian took it as a _No_ and proceeded to shrug hopelessly.

"I might know a certain fairy willing to help us across," Will said hesitantly.

"And how do we reach said fairy?" Killian asked as Liz smiled.

"Oh, I know who he's talking about," Liz said. "SILVERMIST! SILVERMIST!" Her calls brought echoes from the forest, and Killian could've sworn that when he'd looked into the trees he saw glowing blue eyes in the shadows; but as soon as he blinked, they were gone. There was a sudden swirl of sparkles in the air, and they burst to leave a black-haired, blue-outfitted fairy.

"Lizard! What do you want?" she asked, annoyed.

"We need passage to that place, over there," Emma pointed at the fortress, and Silvermist raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Well," she said. "That wasn't there before. Why should I help you?"

"Because we're even," Will said. "I broke your heart, you dropped into the ocean and let me almost drown. And besides, Alice is in there; we need to rescue her."

Silvermist looked conflicted, but after a moment she nodded slowly. "Let's do this." With a wave of her hand Killian and the others were surrounded by a cloud of more sparkles that began to lift them into the air. _Pixie dust,_ Killian thought. _Of course. _They began soaring over the water rather quickly, and it brought to mind when he last flew through the air; at a time when he was young, naive, and eyeliner free with his brother Liam. With a sudden shot of heartache he remembered his brother lying dead in his arms, so cold and him so helpless to do anything but cry, all because they followed a man they considered honorable. It wasn't Liam's fault, he was just following orders, and yet he had to pay the price. Killian would've followed his brother to the ends of the earth, as he would anyone he loved. At the thought of love, he glanced over at Emma, who was gazing straight ahead and trying to hide the glee of flying from her face. After only what seemed like a few short moments the fortress was upon them, and Silvermist even brought them over the wall that guarded it. "Good luck," whispered before waving her hands again and dropping them on the ground. Killian recovered his balance almost instantly, most likely the result of being a sailor and becoming immune to hangovers over the course of more than 300 years, but he looked over the others for signs of vertigo. Emma in particular looked a little winded, but when he tried to help her she pushed him away and turned to Liz and Will. Killian was so unused to having to mask his vulnerability around her he almost wasn't able to school his features into a facade of indifference as his love spoke.

"How do we get inside?" she asked.

"This way there is a service entrance," Liz whispered and gestured to the right. "It goes straight into the dungeon, but we need a key to get in."

"How do you know all this?" Emma asked, suspicion clear in her tone.

"I've been here before, but I was blindfolded and had no idea where I was in relation to, well the rest of the world. I used to be a bounty hunter, and Jafar hired a few of us to look for someone, a while back before all this started." Emma nodded, but to Killian her mistrust was written over every inch of her beautiful face. He yearned to know what was wrong, and he resolved on figuring it out as soon as they got the Rabbit.

"Well how do we get in without a key?" Will questioned.

"We wait for one of the servants to come out and we take theirs," Emma said. "And then we go inside, down to the dungeon, rescue Alice and the Rabbit, figure out where the Vorpal Blade is hidden, grab it, and go our separate ways." Everyone nodded at Emma's plan, but Killian found it hard to concentrate when she was so vexed. Pushing aside his feelings, he told himself to stop being Killian Jones for moment, and go back to Captain Hook, because this mission was far too important to fail on. With that in mind, he crept behind the others along the stone walls of the fortress, until they reached a large iron door. They all waited apprehensively, and after a while the door creaked open, a maid coming out. Being Captain Hook, Killian stepped out of the shadows as quickly and silently as a cat, backhanding the woman in the back of the head and knocking her unconscious. As she fell he caught her in his arms and laid her gently on the ground. In the pocket of her apron he found the key, which he hooked with his hook and turned around to present it to the others. They were all staring at him with shocked looks.

"Pirate!" he said. "But also a gentleman." He strolled over to the door and shoved the key in the lock, a satisfying click sounding as he turned it. "Right then, let's go, shall we?" He waited until everyone else had started down the torchlit stairs the door opened up to before following himself. The stairs wound downward like a screw, and it seemed like they'd been walking down them for hours before they finally reached another iron door, this one without a lock. Liz opened it as quietly as they could, and they all crept out into the dungeon. The air reeked of disease and soiled undergarments, and they stood on a brick platform above an abyss. Over to one side was a guard who sat in a chair, and the hunched forms of prisoners could be seen in cages hanging by chains from a ceiling, swaying ever so slightly over the abyss.

"There must be dozens of prisoners here," Will whispered. "I wonder if Cyrus…."

"I'm pretty sure Jafar keeps his current projects in a separate room, which I have no idea how to get to. Maybe when we break Alice out we can go after him," said Liz.

"Sure," said Killian. "But how about we focus on the sitting guard about twenty feet in front of us?" The guard was burly, and he wore a black chainmail suit, bits of mutton visible in his ginger beard.

"I'll take care of this," Will and Killian said in unison, and they shared a devilish smile in the torchlight. Silently they snuck forward, until Killian stood and walked nonchalantly right into the path of the guard. With a grunt the man stood and alarmedly glanced at Killian's hook and sheathed sword.

"'Ello, mate," said Killian as the guard unsheathed his sword, and behind him Will silently picked up the chair. "What the bloody hell is that thing for then?"

"To kill you," said the burly man in an incredibly deep voice, but as he stepped forward Will brought the chair down on top of his head. It shattered loudly as the man stumbled to his knees, and the noise echoed throughout the cavernous room.

"Are you daft?" Killian hissed at Will, who cringed with the sound of the chair. "Now-"

"We have your girlfriends," Killian and Will whipped around to see two more guards had subdued Liz and Emma, who struggled fervently. "And we're about to have you." Beside him Will suddenly fell to the ground and Killian whipped around to see the burly guard had only been winded and had hit the knave with the hilt of his sword. Roaring, the guard charged Killian, but he sidestepped and sliced through the chainmail on the man's forearm, drawing blood. The guard hissed as he turned around and more warily assessed Killian.

"You can't be a very good swordsman with only one hand," he said mockingly.

"You'd be surprised," Killian replied coolly. "A lot can happen when you have three hundred years to get used to it, like I have in wielding both a sword-" he stabbed the man's stomach as he made to chop down on Killian's head and left it unprotected, "-and hook." He caught the man's sword with his hook and flung it into the abyss, pulling his bloodstained sword out of his flesh and watching him crumple to the floor with a sadistic smile. Of course, that was Captain Hook, and it was Killian Jones who won back out as soon as he heard a gasp of pain from his Swan. He whirled around to see Emma elbowing her captor in the stomach and stomping on his foot. With his grip loosened she twisted his arm and pulled it over her shoulder, using her own body weight to flip to man onto his back in front of her, where he groaned in pain. Liz did almost the same thing, and when they'd both knocked out the guards they slapped their hands together in celebration. Remembering his own partner in crime, Killian rushed to the Knave's side, helping him up as he rubbed his head.

"Ow," he moaned. "Can't they ever wield unicorn stickers?" Liz and Emma trotted over to them. Liz was smiling widely, but Emma's gaze was focused on the crumpled guard on the floor.

"You….killed him," she whispered, horrified. Killian's entire body froze as he saw her terrified face. Then he remembered. Despite trying to be more Captain Hook than Killian Jones for the sake of their quest, he wasn't anymore, and he didn't think he ever would be. He was a man of honor.

"I didn't," he said quickly, reaching out to Emma. "All his major arteries and vital organs are intact. As long as someone finds him within the next 16 hours, he will live." A groan from the man served to confirm his words, and Killian watched as Emma's face relaxed instantaneously and the fear was gone, though her mistrust and suspicion was still in place.

"Alright," she said. "Which one of these cages holds Alice and the Rabbit?" There were were many cages, and even though the prisoners saw that their guards had been defeated, they made no move to barter for their freedom. _They must be really afraid of this Jafar,_ Killian thought.

"Alice! Rabbit!" Will called. "We're here to rescue you!" There was some movement in a couple of cages to the left, and Killian saw a girl with a heartbroken face, ruby pendant and brown hair with blonde edging stick her face in the bars.

"Will!" she cried. "I was just about to wish you were here!" In the cage beside her, a white rabbit with pink eyes and broken glasses in a suit also came to the bars.

"I'm here too! But the only way to get us to the platform is with magic!"

Killian looked over at Emma. "Darling, you sure I didn't eat any mushrooms back in the forest, because what I'm seeing right now is a talking rabbit wearing a suit."

Emma rolled her eyes. "I may know a little bit of magic, but nowhere near enough to move those cages."

"I do." A voice sounded and everyone whirled around, trying to locate it. Killian noticed the sheen of rusted metal and pointed to the far corner of the platform, where shrouded in shadow was a cell.

"The voice is coming from that cell," he said, and cautiously approached it with his comrades. The cell was mostly made of stone, but it had a large wooden door and barred window made of metal.

"I can get your friends for you," said the voice again, though when Killian sidled up to the door and peered inside he saw no one. The voice clearly belonged to woman, and her accent was Irish, refined and elegant.

"Who are you?" asked Emma.

"Someone who can help. Let me out and I'll bring the cages down. If it makes you more comfortable you can have your swords on me as I do it."

"If she's in an actual cell, away from the others then she must be much worse," said Liz.

"Or she's much better. At least she'd not suspended from the ceiling. This is our only chance," Will argued.

Emma looked conflicted, so Killian tried to make the decision easier. "How do we know you can actually do it?" he asked.

"I suppose you'll just have to take a leap of faith."

Emma stood stock still, and Killian waited as she deliberated. Finally sighing, she said, "How do we open your door?"

"Turn the handle and pull."

"Ha ha. Don't we need a key?" Will asked.

"No. Just open the door." Tentatively Emma reached out, turned the knob, and opened the door. There was a rush of wind, and out stepped a very beautiful woman. She wore a long green velvet dress on her slim figure, with golden trim at the edges. She had no shoes on, and her petite feet stuck out almost blindingly against the stony ground, as her skin was paper white. Her face held an ageless and innocent quality, and she had delicate features, though her one blue eye and one green betrayed that she had seen much suffering. Her hair fell down in dark cornsilk colored locks across her shoulders, the slightest of waves to them. She strode confidently forward to the edge of the platform, and Killian lifted up the sword he didn't realize he'd lowered. Emma told the woman (who was about the same height) to stop, but she paid the warnings no heed and only stopped when her pale toes were hanging over the platform and into the abyss.

"What are you doing!?" Emma demanded, and the woman smiled softly with her pink lips.

"What I said I would." She pointed at the two cages that held Alice and the Rabbit and like-no, _with_-magic they lowered themselves down to the platform. The woman flicked her wrists and the cages sprung open, leaving Alice and the Rabbit to sprawl on the ground. When Alice stood she embraced Will and Liz, and then turned to Emma and Killian.

"I can't thank you enough for your aid. I may not know you, but I hope you find what you are looking for." Emma murmured thanks and Killian nodded as Will grabbed the Rabbit by the ears.

"Careful, he's a backstabbing one," Will said with a smile, and the Rabbit hung his head in shame. The knave whispered something into the animal's ear as he nodded. When he let go of the Rabbit he brushed himself off and looked up at Emma and Killian.

"I'll dig a hole for you, no problem," he declared, and Will gave Killian a pat on the back.

"Thanks mate," he said. "You've made me rethink matters of the heart." He then gave Emma a hug and Liz did the same, offering Killian a warm smile and a nod. The three of them waved goodbye and walked out of the dungeon through the iron door, Alice looking back once with another grateful grin. When they were gone for a moment, Killian and Emma breathed a sigh of relief that yet another quest was over and done with.

"Now to find the Vorpal Blade," sighed Emma.

"The Vorpal Blade?" Killian nearly jumped at the woman's voice; she had been so quiet he'd almost forgotten she was there. Emma narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Yeah. What do you know of it?"

"I know where it is."

"Where?"

"Someplace safe." Killian strode up to her and placed his sword at her neck as Emma crossed her arms and repeated the question, the Rabbit beside her and looking nervous. The woman was unfazed. "I do not know you; I see no reason to entrust you with the Blade's location."

"How about the need to live?" asked Killian, pushing his blade deeper into her skin. She chuckled lightly and snapped her fingers, so that suddenly Killian was holding a rose. Startled, he did not stop her as she took it from his hand and inhaled deeply.

"Ah," she said. "Thank you." Killian brought his hook to his aid, but with a twirl of her fingers the woman had turned the rose back into a sword and had it pressing uncomfortably into Killian's neck.

"Let him go!" Emma cried. The woman shrugged and lowered her sword with a playful smile.

"I do not wish to harm you," she said. "But I will if you give me no choice."

"Who are you?" asked Emma.

"Tell me who you are."

"I asked you first."

"I have a sword."

Jaw tightening, Emma conceded and Killian smiled. This woman was a clever one. "Emma Swan."

"Killian Jones," said Killian as well, and the woman nodded.

"I am Morgan," she said, standing a little straighter. "Morgan le Fay." Emma gasped, and Killian stiffened.

"What is it, Emma? Who is she to your world?" Morgan looked confused and waited for Emma to explain.

"There's so many portrayals it's like no one really knows. She's from Arthurian Legend, and lots of people call her Morgana. Some of the earlier works call her a healer, others a goddess, and most of the movies and later books make her power hungry and really, really evil. Supposedly she'd half-fairy too."

"And how is it you have all this information?" asked Morgan, an amused look on her face.

"I...uh, I kind of did a high school project on you," Emma said, embarrassedly scuffing her boot on the ground as Killian wondered what a "high" school was.

"Hmm," said Morgan as she handed Killian back his sword. Surprised, he fumbled with it and kept it at his side. "Why do you need the Vorpal Blade?"

"To kill Peter Pan," said Killian. "He's trying to harm people we care about."

Morgan nodded. "I see. The Vorpal Blade is in another realm, one known as the Enchanted Forest."

"What?" cried Emma. "It's not here?"

When Morgan shook her head Killian was outraged. "That hag lied!"

"No she didn't," said Emma bitterly. "She said the _way_ to the Blade would be here. Not the actual sword."

"I can take you to it," said Morgan. "Rabbit, dig a hole to the Enchanted Forest."

The Rabbit nodded and began to hop around, seeming to look for an appropriate surface, but Emma shook her head. "It's too late. There's not enough time for another crusade. We've failed. _I've_ failed."

"No you-" Killian began, but Emma cut him off.

"SHUT UP! Yes, I have. I failed my parents, Henry, Eric, Ariel, Belle and Gold, even you. I can't do anything right." She stomped the ground in anger and turned to the Rabbit, who'd made a portal on Morgan's cell wall. "Close that!" she commanded, and the Rabbit went to do so. But just before he did something flew out of it, and right into Emma's chest. Gasping in surprise she grabbed the object and cupped it in her hands as she looked at it.

"What is it?" Morgan asked.

"A bluebird," Emma breathed, and Killian saw as Emma tenderly pet the chittering bird and unwrapped a roll of parchment from it's leg. Killian walked over and looked over her shoulder as she read.

_Dearest Emma,_

_I love you! In case I never see you again your father and I want you to know we love you. Neal came back to Storybrooke, and he said that you and Hook accidentally opened a portal with the bean and fell through it. I don't know what conditions either of you were in when that happened, or where you are, but if you fall through a portal with a destination in mind, it can take you there, and this little bird had you in mind. Her name is Sky, and I hope she finds both you and Hook in good health. We, as in everyone from Storybrooke, including Henry, are fine. Storybrooke became too much, and we're positive Pan is doing this now, so Jefferson made a new hat and we are now in the Enchanted Forest, trying to rebuild our kingdom. Henry and the rest of us miss you dearly, and we all know you're out there somewhere trying to find a way to stop Pan. Just know you're not alone, and that is a good thing._

_Find Us,_

_Mom_

There were tears in her eyes by the time Emma was done reading, and if the letter had been to Killian, he'd probably feel the same. "Well," she said, wiping her eyes and turning to Morgan and Killian. "We've got a Vorpal Blade to find and a teenager to ground. Let's go." And with that she clasped his hand. Killian smiled at the contact and in turn grabbed Morgan's hand with his hook so they could stay together. She flinched and looked at his hook suspiciously but said nothing. And so, with a nod to the Rabbit and a last look at the dreary dungeon, the trio strode forth, straight into the rabbit hole.

_**Longest Chapter yet, and longest chapter in my general FanFiction career! Wow! This is also my personal favorite so far. I feel a bit obligated to say that I don't watch Merlin (I may want to, but right now I don't) and so Morgan le Fay (since her alternative name is Morgana) is not based off of that character in any way. I did a lot of research on her (I even went on the website for Marvel) and I'm going to try to make her as interesting as possible. Yet again, thanks for reading and being awesome, and watch out for the next chapter!**_


	10. Another Journey Begins

Chapter Ten: Another Journey Begins

…...

_Here we stand_

_Worlds apart, hearts broken in two, two, two_

_Sleepless nights_

_Losing ground, I'm reaching for you, you, you_

_Feelin' that it's gone can change your mind_

_If we can't go on to survive the tide, love divides_

_Someday love will find you_

_Break those chains that bind you _

_~Separate Ways, Journey_

….

_**Wow! Triple digit followers! Thank you all so much! And last chapter, did anyone notice my subtle title reference? Huh? WHAT DOES IT MEAN? Foreshadowing? Perhaps... Read and find out!**_

Emma made a great effort to keep from crying out into the sucking white and blue portal. The colors danced on and burned her eyes as her hair was whipped around. She tightened her hold on Killian's hand but as soon as she did so Baba Yaga's words came back to haunt her. _I can't trust anyone, _she thought. _But Mary Margaret said not being alone was a good thing!_ Despite trying to convince herself, Emma's walls shut all possibilities down, except that if she trusted anyone except herself she would be burned. _Killian loves you,_ a voice said in her head. And another one responded with, _Neal loved me when he sent me to jail. My parents loved me as they sent their five-minute old daughter to Maine through a magic piece of wood._ Shaking her head, she was glad when the insane spinning colors were gone and brown dirt came up to greet her face. Splaying her hands out before her, she realized Killian was gripping one and her attempt to keep soil out of her mouth didn't go as well as she'd hoped. Coughing and rolling onto the grass, Emma tried to catch her breath. But when she looked from the blue sky to the trees and then the ground, Morgan wasn't there. In fact, she was standing up straight and spinning around. Hurriedly Emma struggled to get up and confront her.

"What are you doing?" she asked suspiciously, pointing warningly at the woman. She smiled as she looked back at Emma.

"Getting reacquainted," she mused as she ran her hands along the bark of a tree.

"You've been here before?" Emma asked.

"Haven't you?" Pursing her lips at the half-answer, Emma began looking around for some rope, however unlikely it was to find any. "Want to tie me up, do you?" Morgan asked with a raised brow. "There's some rope over by that tree, but first you may want to check on your companion. He hasn't moved since we fell from the portal." _Killian!_ Emma screamed inwardly as she whirled around and saw him lying on the ground, face down. She knelt by him and rolled him over with a grunt, greeted by the sight of a sharp rock in the ground spattered with his blood. On his forehead was a long jagged cut that ran into his hair as well, matted with drying blood.

"Killian," Emma whispered. "Killian. Killian Jones!" There was a slight groan from Killian, but that was the only thing to suggest he was alright. She turned to Morgan. "Help me carry…" Morgan rushed forward and knelt on the ground beside Killian. Gently she took his head from Emma and held it in her arms. Emma made to stop her but she was elbowed away easily. Morgan brought his head to her mouth, where she whispered strange, inhuman words over him. Then she let his head fall into her lap and put her hands over his wound, closing her eyes. In a moment her hands began to glow, and the jagged cut on his head began to shrink before Emma's eyes, until all that was left was the dried blood that surrounded it.

"We should camp here for tonight," said Morgan assertively as she calmly gave Killian back to Emma. When Emma opened her mouth to protest she rolled her eyes and explained. "He won't have full motor skills back until tomorrow." She went back to her knees by Emma and looked at her earnestly. "You can trust me, Emma." Emma shook her head, unwilling to believe it. Sure, she _wanted _to trust Killian and Morgan. But the more she wanted to trust them the more she felt she couldn't, and knew she wouldn't.

"No," she replied, not as confidently as she would've liked. "No I can't. Now, I'm going to tie you up." She stood and gently left the unconscious Killian alone, striding over to the large tree with the rope. Smiling, Emma realized this was where she'd first tied up Killian when they met, knowing he lied to them. _Exactly,_ she reassured her misgivings. _He's a liar and a villain and a thief and a pirate._ When her internal lie detector began to ring off on herself, Emma shook her head and got to work securing Morgan in the ropes. "What is it you want in return for taking us to the Vorpal Blade?" Emma asked warily with a final grunt as she tightened the last of the rope around Morgan's hands behind her back, hopefully so she couldn't use them for magic. Morgan turned around to face her with a knowing grin.

"Oh, I already have it." Emma scoffed and jerked Morgan roughly over to the log next to the one she was going to put Killian on to rest, and kept cautious and puzzled eyes on the mysterious woman, who all the while learned all she needed to about _her_.

…

Emma sat beside a waking Killian, watching the small fire she'd made cackle before her. The orange flames sent little sparks into the dark violet sky that was the encroaching night, and she could see Morgan sitting on her log a few feet away, seemingly fascinated by the fire. Groaning, Killian rubbed his now clean forehead and blinked over at Emma. "What the bloody hell happened?"

"You landed on a rock, Morgan healed you, I cleaned you up and we're going to sleep here for the night because you can't walk yet, thanks to the spell," Emma replied coldly, eyes still on the fire. Killian didn't speak for a moment.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and went to take her hand. Emma almost let him, but like a haunting ghost Baba Yaga's words screamed in her head and she pulled away and even scooted her body over a little, still not making eye contact with Killian. Out of the corner of her eye she could see his mouth agape, and ignored it yet again. After a few moments, Killian spoke again, his tone as brisk as a chilling breeze. "You don't trust her."

"What?"

"Morgan. If you tied her up, clearly you don't trust her."

"So? Do you?"

"Not particularly, but if Jafar was keeping her and he was evil, maybe she's good."

"She's not."

"Well-"

"I said that she's not! I'm the one who did the project on her," Emma snapped maliciously, desperate to keep Killian at arm's length. He gulped but quickly retorted.

"Yes, that's right. And didn't you say yourself she's extremely powerful? Do you really think some rope is going to do a very good job of restraining her?" His voice was just as abrasive and Emma cringed, turning so he could only see the back of her. She heard him sigh defeatedly and also turn, but didn't look to see what she was doing. When his nearby warmth didn't reach her, Emma forced her pride down and turned her head to see him saying something to Morgan. He looked very desperate, but she was shaking her head and clearly fighting an amused expression. Stomping the ground and cursing, Killian came back and plopped back into his place by Emma.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"Why do you care?" he snapped, twiddling with his hook in the firelight.

"Because she's _my_ prisoner, and I want to know if you two are in some sort of cahoots and planning to double cross me," Emma said, and she regretted the words almost as soon as they came out of her mouth. Killian turned to her with a disgusted expression.

"Planning to double cross you?" he scoffed with such bitterness she outwardly winced. "After protecting you from two putrescent ruffians, carrying you around Wonderland for hours, respecting your decisions, showing _you _where the cell of _your_ prisoner was, putting up with Baelfire, and crossing through all these _bloody portals, _you don't trust me?! WHAT THE BLOODY BUGGERING HELL, EMMA! If you don't care, then just sod off!" In a lower voice he added, "And for your information, I was asking Miss le Fay to magic up some rum so that it'd be easier to deal with my insufferable travel companion!" Huffing, he turned his back to her pointedly and gazed out into the forest. Morgan had become even more interested in the fire. Emma just stared at his leather clad back with her mouth agape, and turned away to bury her face in her curled up form, so that no one could see the one tear that escaped her emotional walls and distrustful eyes.

…..

Emma strided forward with Morgan in tow, Killian behind her slightly, trying to be confident and not pay attention to the fact that he was pointedly ignoring her. _Good_, she thought as she kicked up some of the Enchanted Forest's leaves._ I shouldn't trust anyone anyways._ Morgan prodded her shoulder and she whipped towards her with a growl. "What? How much farther?"

"Dear, I think you misunderstand," began Morgan plaintively. "It is quite the trek. Anyways, I was just bothering you for the reprieve to use the lavatory." Emma groaned annoyedly and rolled her eyes, not missing the amused look on Killian's face that he held from a distance.

"Fine," she consented. Morgan smiled winningly and held up her still tied hands. Emma shook her head and le Fay pouted slightly before bowing in resignation and beginning to trot towards the trees. "Don't go too far," Emma warned, and Morgan nodded.

"Whatever happens, I want both of you to know that I am on your side," she said seriously, locking gazes with both Emma and Killian. In a flash she ran off a little further and went behind a tree, leaving Emma uncomfortably aware of Killian's eyes burning into her back. She heard dry leaves crackle, and when she looked was surprised to see he had moved away. Emma saw it as a challenge and accepted. Besides, they weren't going to make any progress in such a stalemate; someone had to fix it, and Emma decided it would be her. With a steadying breath, she marched over to Killian, who was leaning on a tree trunk and filing his metal appendage.

"Killian?" she asked, and he turned to her, eyebrows raised expectantly as he patted his file into one of his coat pockets. "I'm…" she faltered, breath catching in her throat. Killian began to look worried, but Emma swallowed her fear and started again. "I'm sorry….for being so, so _abrasive_ for the past...a while."

He cleared his throat audibly and pushed off the trunk, smiling at her. "You have walls. I understand. Baba Yaga said something that got under your skin, I understand. But don't you think she might've been the eensiest bit sour that we escaped? It's stressful carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, my dear Emma. But feel free to shrug everyone once in awhile; you don't have to bear the weight alone, and I promise that as long as I have breath in my being, you won't." Emma just stared at him, genuine, kind and loving Killian Jones, and let out a shaky breath, unable to take the truth in his words. She didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve _him_. She dropped her head towards the ground, ready to retreat from her emotions and the ones that she wanted to take any excuse to avoid. Her hair fell in front of her eyes and in an instant Killian was mere inches from her, gently lifting her head and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. She purposely avoided his gaze, but unable to keep her eyes on the ground, she found herself looking at his chest, a large portion in the shape of a V visible as his shirt underneath the leather vest was unbuttoned…. _a lot_. She turned to walk away, but he touched her arm. Didn't grab it, just brushed it so tenderly it made her turn around to face him as he fixed her with a beseeching look. "Emma, it doesn't have to be like this." She straightened up and met him with a look of her own, unshieldingly desperate.

"How else can it be?" as soon as the question and tear came out Killian rushed forward, lips about to meet hers when there was a strange noise behind them. Emma grabbed Killian's sword that was sheathed at his belt, not taking the time to worry about how close it and its owner were as she whipped around. Before them was Morgan, smiling and shrugging apologetically as she held the reins of two horses, one pawing at the ground with its hooves impatiently and whickering. "I should have known you were gone too long!" Emma still held the sword pointed threateningly at Morgan, and she shrugged again.

"I told you it was a long journey, one we can't make on foot. Besides, I didn't venture far. And look, you now have a lifelong friend; each of you!"

"Where did you get them?" Killian asked.

"They were in a pasture, owners….er, clearly out of the picture. I scrounged up and used my skills to improve their tack, and now we have two ready and willing, if I do say so wellbred, mounts."

"Thanks, Morgan," Emma said genuinely with a nod, not bothering her about escaping for a short time and grateful to be able to forget about her almost-kiss with Killian as she shoved the sword back into his hands and walked forward, mesmerized by one of the horses. He was a palomino stallion, creamy white mane a tangle among his shining golden coat, dotted with lighter spots towards the rump. He had a long white blaze, turning into pink lips that an even pinker tongue moved across as he chomped on his bit. His hooves were a light tan color with slight dirt and dark streaks on them, his eyes a crystal, omnipotent blue. Emma walked towards him slowly, hand outstretched. He shifted slightly, letting out an uncertain nicker. Before Emma knew it she was crooning softly and caressing the horse's face. "Hey there, big guy," she greeted with a soft smile. He pushed playfully against her, and she laughed. She'd never really had much of an interest in animals, and had only seen an actual horse in person a few times, but she found this one utterly fascinating.

"Aw, that's very sweet," Morgan said. "As soon as everyone is acquainted with their respective horse, we'll set out."

"Exactly how long is this journey?" asked Killian.

"Oh dear, we're not even halfway there," replied Morgan with a mocking smile.

"Time is on our side, for now," Emma pointed out, now facing her human (and whatever Morgan was) companions, though one hand rested on her horse's muzzle. Then she looked again at the animals and realized there were only two. "Okay, who's sharing a horse?"

"Well," said Killian. "You don't know how to ride-"

"She'll learn on the way," Morgan said offhandedly. "I have a mount of my own." Her eyes went clouded and appeared to darken, and a roll of thunder sounded. _No,_ Emma realized. _Hoofbeats_. They grew closer and closer, and the noise louder and louder, until before them reared a glorious black stallion, with a curly mane and tail and slightly feathered feet. He crashed back down to the earth on all four legs with a mighty screech that made Emma's horse snort nervously beside her. Morgan approached the horse easily though, embracing him and smiling as she whispered his name. "Shadowmere."

It was then Emma realized the horse had red eyes, and she stared at the two with her mouth agape. Morgan turned to them enthusiastically.

"Let's ride." she said, and Emma coughed deliberately. "Oh, sorry. May we ride?"

"Time's a-wastin'."

…..

Killian patted the neck of the bay and white pinto mare he was riding soothingly. They'd been clopping along for hours now, and the sky was beginning to darken. Killian was getting quite saddle sore; he'd never been one for riding, always sailing, and one would think leather pants would chafe less. Emma, however, seemed to be having the time of her life on the palomino stallion she'd dubbed Ace. Killian himself had begun to call his horse "Bitsy", but only when no one else was looking, and because she reminded him of a girl he once had a dalliance with of the same name, only much sweeter. Morgan and Shadowmere moved as one, and the mysterious woman somehow managed to remain both social and reclusive as she and Killian guided Emma through riding technique (mostly Morgan, because he was a bloody terrible horseman, not having ridden since the second time he went to Neverland, over 300 years ago). Bitsy jolted him from her thoughts when she sped up from a relaxing walk to a trot without any kind of spurring from him, and he tried to calm her. "Whoa, girl, whoa," he soothed as he pulled back on the reins. She did as he requested, but her ears were pinned back in alarm and she chomped on the bit nervously. Suddenly there was a huge, long, guttural moan from the trees that shook the very leaves, and immediately looking over to Emma Killian saw her stiffen with fear.

"Ogres," she breathed, looking frantically at Morgan and Killian. "We have to be very very quiet. Maybe they won't-" suddenly a tree snapped and flew to the ground right behind Killian, effectively spooking all the horses and their riders as they bolted forward at a gallop and glancing behind them, Killian saw a nasty, bulgy, blind, fanged, 20-foot tall ghostly white-skinned ogre in pursuit on four limbs. He struggled to keep a hold on Bitsy's reins with just his one hand at such a speed, her mane whipping into his face, but soon he found a comfortable position where his hook was hanging in the air behind him as he urged Bitsy to go faster. Morgan and Shadowmere were practically flying, and Emma seemed to be doing surprisingly well, jockeying like a professional on a galloping Ace. There was another crash and a roar behind them, and Killian began to panic, wondering if they could outrun the ogre.

"Morgan! Do your magic!" he called to her.

"We're hardly stationary!" she yelled back. "Besides, I'm an awful lot out of practice, and I need time to recharge!"

"I don't think we have-" There was a loud snap behind them, and a pained groan from the ogre followed by a ground shaking vibration. Killian pulled up Bitsy as soon as he could and panting along with the mare looked to see the ogre crumpled dead on the ground, a dozen arrows littering it's back. Out of the trees came lots of whooping and hollering, and in seconds the trio was surrounded by hooded men with bows and swords at the ready. One flipped his hood back, revealing neatly clipped brown hair and twinkling hazel eyes.

"Well, who do we have here?" he said in a rich accent. "Mind getting off your horses?" Reluctantly, Killian looked to Emma for confirmation, and when she warily began to dismount he did too. The man strode forward to them confidently as Morgan came to stand by Killian, quivers of his followers drawn tight as he appraised them. Killian's hand was drawn to his sword with a pointed look at Morgan warning her not to incinerate them. She let out an exaggerated huff but nodded slightly. The man's lips turned upward slightly, and recognition flickered in his eyes as he looked from Emma to Killian. "Men, who do these two look like?" he bellowed, and with shocked and embarrassed gasps all of his followers' weapons were lowered. "My apologies for the rough welcome, your highness," he said to Emma with a flourished bow as he put his bow behind his back. Emma was clearly taken aback. "You as well sir," he said to Killian with a polite nod and friendly smile as he stood back up. "And you, miss." Morgan nodded regally, eyes suspicious and lips pursed as she didn't offer the man a smile. "I am Sir Robin of Loxley, also known as Robin Hood, and I know an awful lot of people looking for you."

"My parents?" Emma asked eagerly. "Henry?"

"Why yes. I'll take you to the-"

"EMMA!" There was a blur of movement and Killian was knocked backwards into a Bitsy who snorted with protest and felt chewing on his hair was appropriate payback. Emma was nearly knocked back as well, but she was being hugged as if the world was ending by her father, and Killian smiled at her accepting it and even wrapping her arms around him as well. In a moment her mother was squeezing the breath out of her as well, and then the young sir was also there. When they pulled away Emma hugged each of them in turn herself, Henry, then Charming, then Snow, a huge smile plastered on her face and eyes shining, making Killian's own heart flutter. Before he knew what was happening he was stepping back, the breath knocked out of him, and when he looked down Henry had his arms wrapped around his own waist and shining brown eyes locked on his.

"Thanks, Killian."

"Whatever for, young sir?"

"For helping my mom and showing up again. I missed being called 'young sir'."

"Of course you did," Killian chuckled, tousling the boy's mop of brown hair as he released him and ran back over to his mother, whispering excitedly in her ear. David came over to him, practically glowing. He was wearing brown leather surprisingly enough, though Killian couldn't make out the details of his attire in the gloom of the night. "'Ello, mate," he said with a joking smile, but Charming didn't respond, only brought Killian in for a huge hug. Surprised, Killian didn't know what to do, reminded of the brotherly embrace Liam used to give him; he hesitantly returned the gesture, and when Charming pulled back knit his eyebrows together. "Is everything alright, prince?"

"We'll talk later," Charming said quietly with glad but troubled eyes, then raising his voice and turning to everyone so they could all hear. "First, our guests of honor will have something to eat!"

"Actually Dad," Emma let out a slight cough behind him. "I think we're all just really tired, and I just want some rest." Snow cupped her daughter's face obligingly.

"Of course. An you don't want everyone bothering you when you're so tired." Emma nodded.

"Okay," said David. "The three of you come with us this way. Robin will take care of your horses."

"Actually," said Morgan slowly, clearly not minding that it seemed like she was butting in. "Shadowmere only lets me handle him." Snow looked uncertain and surprised by the elegant, self-assured person in front of her who was actually meant to be somewhat of Emma and Killian's prisoner.

"Alright, you can put the horses away," Emma consented. "But stay with Robin and put on a hood so no one notices you're new. After that, you sleep near me." Morgan nodded and walked over to Robin, who looked to Snow for confirmation, who nodded.

"Very well, your majesty and highness," he said, spinning on his heel and grabbing the horses with Morgan. Both Emma and Killian raised their eyebrows at Snow and Charming.

"He's very into loyalty to the crown," David said with a shrug. "Spent years fighting against a false king through the Sherwood Forest."

"That's all very interesting, but I'm quite sore. Care to massage your guest of honor, my queen?" Killian said as he waggled his eyebrows at Snow, glad to have a chance to be playful and cheery in such a warm atmosphere. Of course, his version being playful and joking was to flirt and leer. Snow laughed, Emma smiled and rolled her eyes, and Charming growled as the four, along with Henry, started forward. After a short walk along a path the sky grew a lot darker and Killian relied on Emma's lightning hair in front of him to guide him along. She stumbled backwards once, and he caught her easily, letting her go only after she'd steadied herself.

"Thanks," she murmured sincerely, and Killian gave her a wink and lecherous grin.

"Anytime, princess." She laughed, and they could feel her parents' eyes on them. Coughing awkwardly, Killian waited for everyone to move forward again. After about 30 more seconds of walking, they reached the back of a large orange tent. Snow tentatively stepped around, back in flash and nodding, indicating there was no one else there. Edging around to the front, Charming opened the flap of the tent and gestured for them all to go inside. Killian didn't know what it was, but the tent seemed a lot larger on the inside. It was bright with lanterns that looked like balls of light fabric with light emanating from inside of them strung across, roof held up by a long pole in the middle, next to which was a small rectangular dining table that was big enough for four. Around it was lots of pillow and upholstered furniture, the fabric of the tent twirling patterns of orange vines. There was a few bookcases and a desk filled with maps, another shelf with what was probably magical items. Following an eager Henry who'd grabbed his hand, Killian was shown through another flap a subtent with a large and fluffy bed in the middle, a couple of wardrobes and typical bedroom things around it.

"This is Grandma and Grandpa's room," Henry told Emma and Killian with a broad smile, and Killian could see he'd grasped one of his mother's hands as well. Pulling them along some more, Emma shared an exasperate but maternally loving look with Killian, and he smiled amusedly in return. Henry opened another flap into a subtent, grin widening. "And this is where I sleep sometimes. You guys and your friend can all sleep here and-"

"Henry?" asked Charming, and the boy turned to him. "There's only one bed, certainly not big enough for three people." Killian had to resist laughing, instead flashing Emma's parents a suggestive smile that they pointedly ignored.

"Where would you sleep anyway?" Emma asked.

"Oh, I could stay over at Mom's or Dad's." At the mention of Neal Emma visibly stiffened, Killian also growing tense in response, deciding to deflect the sensitive topic.

"So, your _majesties_," he said, delighted by the new nickname he could use. "What will the sleeping arrangements be?"

"We have a guest...subtent," Charming said. "You can sleep there, Emma and that other woman in Henry's room, us in ours. I'm sure that lady won't mind the floor." Emma shrugged in consent, bent down and kissed Henry on the forehead with a soft goodbye, briefly hugged her parents, and walked into Henry's room, closing the flap behind her; Killian expected she had simply plopped on the bed.

"Alright, I suppose I shall retire as well," he sighed, looking down at Henry, who let go of his hand and straightened to give a salute.

"Aye, aye, Captain!" Killian, chuckled, gave Henry permission to leave, and curbed the impulse to mess up the boy's hair yet again as he sped out of the tent rambunctiously. Killian then turned to Charming with a winning wink. They rolled their eyes simultaneously and then hand in hand retired to their own tent. Before he disappeared behind the flap Charming turned, looked deliberately at where Emma had gone to and then warningly at Killian. When he was gone, Killian sighed, realizing suddenly just how aching he really was. He trudged over to the flap to the tent where he would be sleeping, keeping his eyes on the hardwood floor as he kicked off his boots, shrugged off his coat, undid the belt that held his sword around his waist, and clicked his hook out of its brace. There was a cough in front of him, and he looked up with a start to see Morgan smiling amusedly at him as she leaned against the bedspread.

"Hello, Captain," she greeted.

"Fay," he said, not inclined to call her by her first name as he narrowed his eyes suspiciously but was more curious than anything. "If you're here to seduce me, I'll have you know I'm a one-woman pirate." She laughed, a sound like a prolonged musical note, and he became more curious as to her purpose.

"Seduce you? No, not ever," she said rather proudly, and when Killian scoffed she rolled her eyes. "You're very attractive, but I'm not interested, and it's clear who you belong with." Killian nodded firmly, glad she could see that and wondering what else she thought about him and Emma. "I am here," she continued. "To sleep."

"Well I'm not taking the bloody floor!"

"You're not taking any _bloody_ place in this room," she said with a scheming smile. "I guess you'll just have to find somewhere else. Try the next room."

"Wha…" Killian began as she got off the bed and began collecting his things for him.

"Maybe Emma will be more welcoming," she offered as she piled his things into his arms.

"Why do you want me with her?" he asked as he raised an eyebrow.

"No one said that. Maybe I just want a room to myself. And don't worry about being ridiculed, just tell them I threatened to set you on fire," she shrugged and began pushing him towards the flap.

"Trust me," he muttered. "That won't stop her parents from murdering me." Before he knew anything else he was outside the flap, Morgan waving goodbye as she twirled around and shut the subtent in his face. Sighing, Killian walked over to the flap to where Emma was probably fast asleep by now, opening it quietly. Seeing her fully clothed sleeping form curled on Henry's bed, he smiled slightly as he shut the flap and crept in, placing his things on the floor and relaxing as he put the pillow he grabbed from the main tent down and settled on the ground, breathing deeply.

He'd almost fallen asleep when Emma's groggy voice sounded. "Killian?"

"Hey, love."

"Morgan wanted a room to herself, huh?"

"She's far too saucy for a prisoner," he huffed and heard her chuckle.

"Aren't you cold?" she asked, and he realized that it was rather chilly, the walls of the tent not much protection.

"I'll be fine, darling. I dress in layers and leather. Unless of course, you're offering to warm me?" he could almost hear her roll her eyes, but in reality was greeted with footsteps and something plush dropped on him.

"Don't worry," he heard her say as he saw her outline move back to the bed. "I have another one." Pulling the blanket up to him, Killian smiled softly, able to make out Emma's relaxed face as she tried to get to sleep, and her beautiful eyes when she looked at him a few times, not seeing in the darkness that he could see her too. Closing his own eyes after a while, Killian fell asleep, all soreness completely forgotten in the warmth given to him by the blanket, and the presence of the woman who gave it to him.

_**Thanks so much for reading, and please follow, favorite, and/or review if you can! Man, these chapters just keep getting longer and longer, huh? Hope it's not too much. Honestly, I'd like to know what everyone thinks of Morgan! What are her motives? Is she good or bad? Worse than Pan? Do you like her character? Can she be trusted? WILL she be trusted? Is she a manipulator? You can even PM me with your speculations and suggestions, and make sure to keep an eye out for the next chapter, as always.**_

_**P.S. I'm only slightly sorry that I named Morgan's horse Shadowmere and made him a lot like the one from Skyrim. It was the only thing I could think of, and I wanted her horse to be imposing. YAY FOR ELDER SCROLLS! And I'm a lot less sorry about only having Emma and Killian almost kiss. Where's the fun in that?**_


	11. Setting Off

Chapter Eleven: Setting Off

…

_When you feel my heat_

_Look into my eyes_

_It's where my demons hide_

_It's where my demons hide_

_Don't get too close_

_It's dark inside_

_It's where my demons hide_

_~Demons, Imagine Dragons_

….

_**Calling all my wonderful readers! S.O.S.! SAVE OUR STORY! I'm running out of Captain Swan songs to put at the beginning of my chapters. If you could suggest one about Captain Swan, or just Killian or Emma, it'd be super helpful. The whole song doesn't even have to match; just part of it. Please and thank you!**_

Emma groaned as she stretched awake in the small but plush and soft bed. She rubbed her eyes before opening them and seeing light shine through the fabric of the brightly patterned tent above her. Yawning, she sat up and noticed she was fully clothed, even her boots on. She got out of bed and walked over to the mirror, seeing her hair as a bedraggled mess. Luckily there was a hairbrush on the dresser, and she grabbed it, running it through her hair, afterwards splashing her face in a water-filled basin and turning to say something to Killian, except that the only sign showing he'd slept next to her on the floor last night was his neatly folded leather coat in the corner. She furrowed her eyebrows and walked out of the subtent. There Killian was, talking calmly with Mary Margaret and David, who had his hand on Henry's shoulder. Morgan stood next to Killian with a bored look on her face. Emma coughed deliberately and they all whirled around. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," Killian winked, and Emma rolled her eyes.

"We both know that's Aurora."

"Ooh! I met Aurora!" Henry said excitedly. "She and Prince Phillip are really nice!"

"I thought Phillip was dead?"

"Mulan and Aurora found a way to claim his soul from the wraith," Mary Margaret explained as Henry rushed forth and hugged his mother in greeting. "Are you ready for breakfast with everyone?"

"Most know you're here, and those that don't know you as Sheriff know you as our daughter, the princess," David smiled.

"We really need to find the Vorpal Blade," Morgan interjected.

"There's plenty of time for that after you've all had a good meal and stocked up on supplies!" said Mary Margaret with a wave of her hand, and Emma shrugged.

"Fine with me." Emma followed Killian and David out, arm around Henry and Mary Margaret slipping her hand in hers, Morgan following hesitantly behind them. As soon as she came out of the tent there was a flash of red and suddenly Ruby was squeezing her to death.

"Eeeemmmmmaaaaaaaaaa!" she squealed, and Emma slowly wrapped her own arms around her friend, nowhere near as tightly. When she let go Emma caught her breath and smiled amiably at her. "We all missed you so much!"

"Yeah, I got that." Granny also appeared and gave Emma a short hug and Killian a sharp nod. As the group advanced forward more Emma could see a huge table, and by the time she reached it half of Storybrooke had given her hugs, as well as Aurora, Mulan and Prince Phillip. Regina even offered her a handshake and genuine smile. Jefferson, wearing his ridiculously large hat and more leather and eyeliner than Emma had ever seen on anyone but Killian approached her as he handed his daughter Grace a small leg of mutton and she skipped over to Henry gleefully. Henry and Grace chatted excitedly as Emma stopped a few feet from the Hatter.

"Jefferson," Killian nodded, and Jefferson grinned sardonically.

"Long time no see, Hook," he said. "Last time I saw you you were leaving Wonderland, while I was still stuck there."

"You're here now, aren't you mate?" he shrugged unapologetically.

"Yeah, I-I guess I am," he looked over at Grace as she laughed with Henry and smiled softly before turning to Emma. "Haven't seen you in awhile either, Emma. Glad to have you back and safe."

"Thanks," Emma said.

Jefferson scratched the back of his head nervously with a forced chuckle and beseeching smile, and Emma was reminded of how harmless he'd seemed before he _poisoned her with tea_. "Listen, I never got to apologize for kidnapping and tying up your mother, sedating and tying you up, and forced you to make me a hat at gunpoint….so, sorry." Emma watched Killian's eyebrows shoot up and his jaw tighten, but she smiled and shrugged.

"It's fine, Jefferson. If it was Henry, I would've done the same." Killian still stiffened though, and stepped toward Jefferson threateningly, murder in his eyes and hook raised.

"Pardon me, but did you just try to make up for kidnapping, _sedating_, and POINTING A GUN AT EMMA WITH A SIMPLE 'SORRY'?" Jefferson flinched, and David had to hold Killian back as Emma gave him her best _What-the-hell _look and muttered an apology to Jefferson, who held up his hands plaintively and watched Killian warily as they all proceeded to the unbelievably long table, decked out in various meats and fruits and vegetables, even some pancakes. Before she could pull out a chair to sit down though, she heard her name called by an all too familiar voice.

"Welcome back Miss Swan," said Gold, leaning on his cane with a suit and tie on, Belle holding on to his arm and waving excitedly at Emma. He turned to Killian, and Belle visibly stiffened as he stood straighter in the presence of his "Crocodile" and the woman that he shot. "Pirate."

"Crocodile," Killian retorted through gritted teeth.

"Why don't we all just eat some food?" David in a cheery voice, though his hand was on the hilt of his sword and his eyes glued warningly on Gold, as if he were ready to leap to Killian's defense at any given moment. Gold nodded slowly and he and Belle strode over to a couple of chairs, revealing a form Emma didn't realize had been standing behind them. Neal. He smiled widely and jogged over to her, wrapping her in a hug. Emma, unsure after all that had transpired, hugged him back but whispered in his ear.

"We're not together anymore, Neal. I can't be with someone who doesn't believe in me." When she pulled away his look was one of shock, and out of the corner of her eye Emma could see Gold narrow his eyes and Morgan and Killian raise their eyebrows; Mary Margaret, David, and Henry oblivious as they had already sat down.

"Come on, honey!" Mary Margaret called, and Emma walked over and sat in between her mother and Henry. She noticed Killian scuff his feet uncertainly and realized he didn't have any friends to sit with, suddenly very guilty she hadn't saved him a spot. But David welcomed him next to himself and so the pirate was beside Robin Hood as well, sharing stories and drinks that shouldn't be had in the morning. Emma looked over the strange cuisines and decided on a couple of blueberry pancakes and some bacon. Eating only made her feel more hungry though and she had almost half a dozen more pieces of bacon and another pancake. When she was finished all lot of people had left the table, milling about the tents and such. Her mother called her over to where she was standing with David, and Emma walked over curiously.

"What?" she asked. "Is Killian watching Morgan, because I don't trust her alone." Both of her parents raised their eyebrows when she called the pirate by his real name, and she cursed inwardly.

"Killian?" her father asked suspiciously. Rather than awkwardly take it back, Emma defended what she now called him.

"What? Is it so wrong to call someone by their real name?"

"What's going on between you two? You know he slept in the same room as you last night." Her father stood straighter and crossed his arms in front of his chest with narowed eyes. David wouldn't let the subject go, but Mary Margaret nudged his shoulder, eyes clearly saying that this was not the place or time.

"Yes, he's with Morgan," she said. "We just wanted to know what you want to happen, after Pan is defeated and all."

"We're rebuilding the kingdom," David said eagerly. "This whole tent situation is only temporary. As we speak we're working on a castle and rebuilding villages. Having the Evil Queen and the Dark One and all the Enchanted Forest fairies on our side is really helpful."

"Storybrooke is gone. We...we want to have you here with us. We can be a family, and rule the kingdom together!" Mary Margaret and David beamed at her, but it was all just really confusing. _I can't be a princess! _She shook her head and backed up a few steps.

"Can we…can we just get rid of Pan first before worrying about all of this?" she asked plaintively. Her parents' smiles faltered, but they nodded in resignation. "Do you guys have any place I can take a shower?" They nodded, and Mary Margaret walked off, Emma following with her eyes on the ground and worries gnawing at her.

…..

Killian finished putting on the red vest, looking over himself in the mirror. He looked almost the same, except of course for the change in his second layer. He shrugged on his big coat and walked out of the tent. "Morgan!" he called. She was still changing into attire more suitable for their adventure, as he decided they should when Emma went off to talk to her parents and he figure it wouldn't be appropriate to wait around and stare after her with "moons in his eyes" as Morgan so eloquently put it. She finally emerged, wearing brown leather pants and boots with silver clasps, a white and billowy shirt that looked a lot like Killian's black one except collarless and with less of a plunging neckline, over which was a brown leather vest that also had silver clasps. Over all of that a long gray cloak was tied around her neck, a silver clasp in the shape of a dragon holding it in place. He hadn't noticed before but after a while out of Jafar's dungeon her appearance had changed. It was nothing sudden, but now he was very aware of different she'd become. Her hair was now several shades darker, a rich golden color, and though her skin was still very pale it had a healthy tint to it.

"Well," she said, looking him over. "You look surprisingly… the same."

"And you don't. I wonder-"

"What Emma's wearing?" Morgan finished with a knowing smile, but he scoffed.

"What she's _doing_," he said, and she nodded with a sarcastic gleam in her eye.

"Whatever keeps the tears away at night, my dear Captain. I hope she's ready though. We should head off soon. I'll go ask Robin to show me the armory."

"Whoa," Killian put his hand out to stop her as she started off purposefully. "You are _not_ having free roam of the armory!"

"Ugh, fine!" she sneered. "But what am I supposed to do while you're gone?"

"While I'm gone?" she jerked her head behind him and he turned to see Charming coming towards him. "Hey," Killian greeted. "Where's Emma?"

"She's taking a shower. You guys will be heading out shortly afterward. Can I grab you to talk for a moment?" Killian nodded, and then turned to Morgan, who was waving her hand and making leaves swirl around with a bored look on her face.

"You go with…." he spotted Regina walking along with Jefferson, seemingly arguing about something with him as they held the hands of their respective children. "Them! Jefferson, Regina. Keep an eye on Morgan will you?" He didn't give them time to reply as he grabbed Morgan's arm with his hook and pulled her towards them.

"Watch yourself!" she snapped angrily at him, but he just smirked and turned away as Grace and Henry began to bombard her with questions. Jefferson and Regina held protective stances and scowls on their faces. Killian matched Charming step for step as the brittle autumn leaves crackled beneath their boots and they walked away.

"We are trying to rebuild the kingdom," Charming began after taking a deep breath. Killian nodded.

"I'm well aware of that, your highness." He spoke the title without spite or humor.

"We've even been discussing borders and future business dealings with Phillip and Aurora when they visit our camp from their palace. But I'm-I'm worried…." He paused, swallowing, eyes on the ground. Killian nudge him to urge him to continue.

"About what, mate?"

He stopped and turned to Killian with a desperate look in his eyes, and Killian noticed they were far from anyone else. "About _everything_! I told Snow and Emma it was going to be easy, that the magic-users on our side would be a big help, but it's all really hard. Where the curse didn't hit everything's fine, but in our lands all the soil is dead and barren. Ogres are everywhere! And something….something isn't _right_. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it's some sort of sense of foreboding." Killian listened intently, aware of the strain in Charming's voice and the stress evident on his face. _Damn, _he thought. _You look like you're being put through hell, mate. _

"Why are you telling me all this?" he ended up asking.

Charming shook his head with a mirthless laugh. "It's really hard not being able to tell my wife or daughter any of this because I don't want them to worry, and I guess I just wanted someone to talk to." Killian smiled openly and put his hand on Charming's shoulder.

"Your troubles are safe with me," he said, and Charming nodded gratefully. To lighten the mood Killian added a "Your majesty" to the comment and accepted a hearty shove from his friend as they headed back to where he could make out Morgan, Henry, Grace, the Hatter and Regina. Snow and Emma, dressed the same but with slightly damp hair hair and sword in a sheath at her waist, joined them.

"You guys ready to get going?" Snow asked, beaming. Morgan, Emma and Killian nodded. "Alright then, we'll get your mounts ready and some supplies. There are a couple other things to take care of before you go as well."

"Then it'll be off on your adventure!" David said with a pat on Killian's back, and he looked out into the forest, almost swearing he saw something move in the shadows. When the wind whistled through the trees and moved their branches though, there was nothing.

**__****Sorry this chapter is so short, and sorry it's been so long since I last updated. It won't be that long again! I just wanted to wait until the midseason finale was over *sobs about hiatus and hyperventilates about 3x11*. Next update will be the next two chapters! But I'd like some more help from my great readers. I'm conflicted. Should I have some more people join Killian and Morgan and Emma on their quest? And if so, who? Robin, Regina, Snow, Jefferson, or maybe even Gold? Thanks for reading; I hope you enjoyed!**


	12. The Dark Forest

Chapter Twelve: The Dark Forest

…

_I'm not a perfect person_

_I never meant to do those things to you_

_And so I have to say before I go_

_That I just want you to know_

_I've found a reason for me_

_To change who I used to be_

_A reason to start over new_

_and the reason is you_

_~ The Reason, Hoobastank_

…..

_**Special thanks to **shhjustmehere** and **Mindy the Magical Moose** for suggesting songs! You guys are awesome. And as always, great thanks to everyone who follows, favorites, and reviews!**_

Emma rubbed Ace's neck apprehensively, nervously smiling at her parents as Robin put some saddle bags of supplies on the horses. "Are you sure you want to go alone?" her mother asked, wringing her hands together nervously, David's hands on her shoulders.

"Mom, Dad, I'll be fine!" she insisted for the umpteenth time, rolling her eyes. "It's not going to be that big of a deal! Really." They nodded, though worry was still clear in their eyes. Henry rushed forward and gave her another hug before backing off to stand next to his other mother and father. Emma gave them a sharp nod of her own as she walked over to the stirrup and lifted her boot into it, climbing into the saddle. Killian also got atop his mare, and Morgan leapt aboard Shadowmere with great grace. She waved to the small group that had gathered to send the off, before turning and nodding at Morgan. The woman clucked to Shadowmere and they started off at a brisk trot into the forest. Still looking back at everyone and smiling bravely, Emma clucked to Ace and pressed her heels gently into his sides, moving up and down with his movements as they jogged after Morgan. Killian gave everyone an exaggerated salute and winning smile before following suit.

Morgan led them on at a steady pace, speeding up to a gallop in short bursts. Forest turned into plains, and plains turned into rocks that turned into mountains that turned back into forest. They were cantering through a yellow plain of long grass and wild wheat, when they approached towering trees. They looked much like those that had been in front of Baba Yaga's hut, skeletal and of ebony bark. But these had much thicker trunks and rich heads of dark purple leaves. "What the hell?" Emma breathed, just as Killian's horse, who she heard him call "Bitsy", spooked, rearing and flailing her hooves out in front of her. Killian himself was caught off guard by her behavior, desperately trying to hold on and control her while not stabbing the mare with his hook. She continued flail, finally bringing her front hooves down as she writhed and bucked, ears flat back and eyes wild. Morgan was frantic, though her imposing stallion stood stock still and merely pointed his ears toward the horrifying spectacle with mild interest as Ace began to move around nervously.

"Morgan! What's happening?" Emma asked.

"The dark forest is scaring her!" she said.

"Really? Never would've guessed!" Killian yelled above Bitsy's whinnies as he struggled to keep a hold of the reins and keep her from bolting. "Bloody hell!" Watching him fight for stability above the terrified horse who was now getting so worked up that she was sweating, Emma couldn't take simply sitting by idly and keeping her own mount calm. She leapt off of Ace and ran over to Bitsy, raising her hands placatingly.

"Shh, shh, whoa girl, steady!" she crooned as she moved closer. Bitsy stopped just long enough for Emma to snatch the reins and hold her steady, allowing her to calm after another moment of struggle.

"Thanks love," Killian nodded gratefully, and Emma shrugged as she went back to Ace and hopped back in the saddle, turning to Morgan.

"What scared her?"

"This place, and rightfully so. The dark forest is where the Vorpal Blade is kept, and not because it's filled with fluffy bunnies. The horses sense its foreboding." Killian huffed, and Emma smiled softly at his indignance that only Bitsy freaked out.

"Well-" she began, but was cut off by a sudden and bloodcurdling _crack _as the tree in front of her gave out a shudder and groan and fell forward, trunk splitting and blood-red sap coming out. Ace reared up in fear, but Emma kept a tight hold n the rains and calmed him as soon as all four of his hooves were back on the ground. But there was a shocked squeal beside her and her head whipped around to see Killian holding on for dear life as Bitsy bolted right into the imposing forest. Her blood ran cold as in the millisecond it took her to take action images flashed before her eyes of him lying dead in a ditch somewhere or fallen into the jaws of a huge bulky beast. "Killian!" she screamed, whipping the reins forward and kicking Ace's sides, propelling him forward like a bullet after the runaway horse and rider. As soon as she was underneath the dark trees any light that filtered through seemed distorted and wrong. There was the sound of trees falling and splitting all around her, and she knew something was after them and had made Bitsy run. She kept her eyes glued to the white rump of the mare and the leather coat flowing out behind her pirate as she and Ace navigated the forest behind them. Around her the splitting of tree trunks continued, with an undertone of an eerily familiar laugh that Emma couldn't be sure she'd actually heard. Bitsy slowed rather suddenly, hooves skidding along the moldy ground and Killian thrust into the mare's neck by his momentum. Emma pulled back heavily on the reins as well, and Ace pawed at the ground until they stopped right next to Bitsy and Killian. Leaning over Ace's neck and looking down, Emma could see the four of them had stopped just short of falling down a sharp ravine at breakneck speed. She and Kilian breathed a sigh of relief in unison as they turned to each other and offered exasperated smiles, just as another tree split somewhere to their left. Emma looked around frantically around, brushing her hair out of her eyes just in time to see a huge black trunk just about to fall on them, glowing eyes laughing in the shadows. As it completely blocked out all around her, all she could do was put her arms in front of her and scream.

Just before the tree came crashing down on her and Killian, it stopped, and Emma could see the white shimmer of a magical barrier protecting her and the pirate from it. She sighed yet again as the tree moved back from them, and in a few seconds was facing the other way, smushing dead grass and dark brown vines rather than Killian and Emma's heads as someone clucked and hoofbeats sounded a little ways off. In just a moment Morgan appeared with a bemused yet annoyed look on her face. "What part of 'the Dark Forest is dangerous do you not seem to understand'?"

"Oi, my horse spooked," Killian huffed.

"Hers didn't," Morgan pointed out as she pointed at Emma. She opened her mouth to argue but Morgan wouldn't even let her start. "Whatever, I understand. You two are connected at the hip or whatnot. That's not important. It'll be night soon, and you do not want to be out in the middle of this place at night." Emma's eyes narrowed, but she did not retort to Morgan's insinuation, instead focusing on her point about danger.

"Was that thing that scared Bitsy one of the monsters in this place?"

"No," Killian said. "Whatever that was, it's been following us for quite some time. I've no clue what it is however."

"I can't be sure either," said Morgan. "But what I do know is that we need to find a dry place to sleep and set up a fire. The creatures that dwell here hate light. I'll also make a magical barrier around us that should keep us safe."

"Thanks Fay," Killian said. "The bottom of that ravine would probably make a good place."

"Aye Captain," said Morgan, analytical eyes on the bottom of the ravine. She smiled playfully at Emma and Killian before kicking Shadowmere. The great black stallion whinnied a sound like an owl's screech before cantering right towards the ravine.

"Morgan, no!" Emma yelled, reaching out her hand to the woman and surprised at how her heart pitched at the thought of her frie-_guide _hurt. But like, most likely with, magic Shadowmere sailed over the edge of the ravine, mane flowing behind him like a cloak of darkness, the cloak of his rider waving like a flag in the wind behind her. He landed gracefully onto the moldy leaves of the ground, spinning around on his hooves to end the performance with a rear of prowess and victory. Emma rolled her eyes at Morgan's triumphant smile. "How do _we_ ge-" before her questioned was finished Morgan waved her fingers and a cloud of purple smoke clouded Emma's vision. When it faded away she and Ace were on the floor of the ravine, looking over at Killian and Morgan. "Fair enough."

….

Emma shifted uncomfortably in her bedroll. Every time she closed her eyes those laughing evil eyes burned on her eyelids, and the urge to know what it was that was stalking them gnawed at her like a puzzle left unsolved. Sighing in resignation to her insomnia, Emma sat up and stared at the gently crackling fire. Or the remnants of what should have been a gently crackling fire. All that was there was charred kindling with cracks in it that glowed orange, embers dying amid ash. Emma looked up into the canopy of trees, unable to judge the time, though she knew it was night. She'd remembered Morgans earlier warning about the forest's dwellers and their detestation for light, so she got up with a lazy groan and walked to the edge of their camp. Morgan and Killian slept soundly in other spots by the fire. She moved quietly as not to wake them as she snuck over to the magical shimmering wall Morgan had put up. Reaching out a tentative hand, Emma was able to put her hand out. Carefully she walked outside the barrier, careful to keep one boot in as she grabbed a moderately large rock and put it on the line of the wall, effectively creating a patch that would allow her to get back in once she had more wood. Quietly and warily she walked out into the darkness, eyes groping for loose wood anywhere amid the gloomy forest. She could barely make out any timber amid the darkness that was the land's namesake, but after wandering a bit farther out she'd amassed quite a bit. She turned to head back to the camp when suddenly, right in front of her own eyes was another pair, glowing, pupilless, neon blue. She dropped her kindling in an instant and reached for the sword at her belt, but the eyes seemingly without a body shoved her down. She spit out dead leaves as she leapt to her feet, sword now at the ready. The wind whipped her hair around as she saw the eyes circle her. Everytime they came to close she swung her sword, but met nothing more than empty air. The eyes screeched and flew at her. She brought her sword down on them but hit nothing and was sent flying, spine colliding with a tree trunk and sending a shot of pain through her. Consciousness threatened to slip from her as flashes swam before her vision and the eyes mocked her, and she realized she must've hit her head. But she heard a voice and the sound of foliage moving and quite suddenly Killian burst from the night, eyes wide and worried. His eyes landed on Emma and he knelt beside her, helping her to stand.

"I heard a scream," he whispered as he looked around and Emma recomposed herself. She looked around too, but the eyes were gone.

"Yeah, that thing was here. I guess it's gone."

"Well what the bloody hell were you thinking?!" he hissed. "You could've been killed!"

"I was just gathering firewood!" Emma retorted, barely making out Killian's shape in the gloom but hoping he could hear her anger.

"Don't!"

"I will if I want to! Are you forgetting who's in charge here?"

"You hardly let me forget, _princess._"

"Maybe I would if you weren't always reminding me of who you are, _pirate_."

"I don't want you hurt!"

"I don't want you hurt either, but I trust you'll be fine on your own!" Killian gulped audibly, and Emma sighed.

"You're right. I'm sorry. And I hope you know that not only do I trust you with your own life, but I trust you with mine." He couldn't see her smile as his sincere words reached her.

"Thanks, but I think we should get back to Morgan." As if on cue, a bloodcurdling scream then sounded back the way camp was. Killian and Emma searched until they found each other's eyes. "Morgan."


	13. Missing Something?

Chapter Thirteen: Missing Something?

….

_You're the only one I ever believed in_

_The answer that could never be found_

_The moment you decided to let love in_

_~ Let Love In, The Goo Goo Dolls_

…

Killian and Emma tore through the trees until they were in the ravine and the fire was right in front of them. Spotting Morgan's bedroll, Emma ran faster, only to hit the magic wall and flip backward. Groaning as she grabbed Killian's outstretched hand, she glared until he hid his smirk and then went to where she'd put the rock. Moving it up she made an opening that she and Killian squeezed through rather uncomfortably. Once inside the barrier they both ran over to Morgan's bedroll, only to find it empty. "Morgan!" they cried. "Morgan!" After a while of yelling to no avail they simply sat. And waited.

…

The sky seen through the trees was pink, and the sun was rising. Killian and Emma had combed the area around the ravine dozens of times searching or their guide, but she was gone. Killian sighed as he leaned against a rock, reaching behind him and taking out his new flask of rum. "Swan?" he offered, and she sighed gratefully, walking over and grabbing it from him. He pretended not to notice the way his heart fluttered when their fingers brushed. After she took a sig he had his turn, and she clearly waited for him to swallow before speaking.

"Where could she be?"

"Maybe she left of her own free will," Killian suggested, and Emma looked at him with mouth agape. "You said that she said she already got what she wanted from us. Maybe she tired of us."

"And leave us alone in the Dark Forest?"

"Why not?"

"But why would she leave her horse?" Emma gestured to Shadowmere, who stood a little way away from Bitsy and Ace, pawing at the ground.

"Who says that's actually her horse?" Killian shrugged again, though he could see Emma was clearly having trouble accepting that they may have been abandoned by Morgan. "Look, Emma, the point is that now we're left without a guide. What do you want us to do?" Emma's eyebrows furrowed as she thought and grabbed Killian's rum again.

"We need Morgan to find the Blade," she stated matter-of-factly. Killian smiled.

"Are sure you don't just need your friend back?"

"Friend? Morgan? That's ludicrous!" she snapped, letting Killian know he'd struck a nerve. Before he could say anything more though there was rustling in the forest behind them and both Emma and he stood, drawing their swords. Out of the bushes came a dirtied Morgan, eyes wild and desperate. Her eyes met Killian's and she mouthed the word "Run" before stumbling into more vegetation. Immediately he and Emma sped off after her. In a few moments they'd caught up to her and were helping her limp along. "What happened?" asked Emma.

"No...time….to explain. We need…..to get out of here for now." Morgan managed between labored breath. But quite suddenly he felt a tingling sensation over his body and he could no longer move. He was paralyzed. Emma and Morgan fell to the ground but quickly scrambled to their feet. Quite suddenly any light that had been filtered into the forest disappeared, and they were all in complete darkness.

"Morgan?" Emma said frantically. "What's happening?" Morgan did not answer, standing defiantly and seeming to look at something in the darkness.

"Show yourself."

"Tutt, tutt darlings. Are you missing something?"

**_Ooh! Short chapter + new character? Or is it a new character? Hmm. I'll guess next time we'll find out. I didn't plan a cliffhanger, it just happened this way. Thanks for reading!_**


	14. Family Reunion

Chapter Fourteen: Family Reunion

…..

_I'll also be the one_

_You wanted me to be_

_I'll never let you down_

_Even if I could_

_I'd give up everything_

_If only for your good_

_So hold me when I'm here_

_Right me when I'm wrong_

_You can hold me when I'm scared_

_~When I'm Gone, 3 Doors Down_

…_._

"Morgan, who is this?" Emma hissed. Morgan grabbed her arm and squeezed tightly whispering in her ear.

"No matter what, stay still. She can't know you have magic and resisted her spell." The darkness that had been cast over them suddenly lifted, and gloomy light shown through the trees. A woman stepped forward, and Emma stood completely still as she coldly appraised them. She had pale, paper-white skin, long black hair that draped down to her waist, and a dark purple velvet gown that had a barely existent neckline, lunging so deep it tapered down to where she wore a golden cloth belt, and the bare skin between her breasts, as well as her bellybutton, was visible. Her red lips upturned into a wicked smile that showed shining white teeth, and her green eyes glimmered with ill intent. She walked slowly over to Morgan, eyes briefly scrutinizing Emma and Killian as she thrummed her manicured nails against her hips. Once she was a mere foot away from Morgan she snapped her fingers and glowing blue eyes Emma hadn't noticed before emerged from behind a tree, and now she could see that they clearly belonged to the Shadow she knew did Pan's bidding. She'd only ever seen it in darkness and so had only ever seen its eyes. She had to fight the urge to do something, and glanced over at Killian, who was clearly trying in vain to move.

"Hello Morgan," the woman greeted in a rich Irish accent. "I know your friends have met mine." She gestured to the Shadow, that stayed silent but imposing. Morgan met the woman's gaze easily and her jaw was tight; she was clearly unamused.

"Hello, Morgause," she said.

"Oh dear sister, must we dispense the formalities?" Morgause sighed, and Emma had to swallow a gasp. Pretending to be paralyzed was really hard. She searched Morgan's eyes for affirmation, and she looked over to her with a sad nod. _What a family reunion, _Emma muttered internally. "I know why you are here."

"And why is that?" Morgan asked, crossing her arms.

"You seek the Blade. To kill Peter Pan. My friend is very informative. We've been following you for a while now."

"And why do you care?" Morgan asked.

"Because I can't let that happen. And because I need the Blade myself." Morgause explained with a shrug and playful grin that looked exactly like Morgan's. It creeped the hell out of Emma.

Morgan swallowed audibly and smiled just as wickedly back at her sister before replying. "_My friends _have told me that the Shadow works with Pan, so clearly you have allied yourself with the boy. Is he in this realm?"

"No," denied Morgause, smile gone, though Morgan's only grew.

"You always were a bad liar, dear sister," said she as she stepped forward, and Morgause stood straighter, not wanting to lose ground. "He'll only double-cross you. It's in his nature. As the Captain here so eloquently puts it, he's a 'bloody demon'." Morgause's face twisted into a look of something akin to repulsiveness and distaste, before she looked annoyed and stepped closer to her sister. Their noses were almost touching now as they squared off.

"No, he won't. He may be powerful and useful to me, but he can't defeat me, and he won't want to. We have what you would call a mutually beneficial relationship. Now, you're going to tell me where you hid the sword." she put her hand on Morgan's face, clutching her cheek and chin with her nails, digging them into her sister's pale flesh.

"Never," Morgan sneered, spitting on the hem of her sister's dress and causing her to recoil. She wiped the saliva off and clucked her tongue reproachfully as she smiled in mock sympathy.

"I'm surprised," Morgause said nonchalantly. "You didn't ask about the rest of our dear little family. Do you even care how they are?" Morgan's eyes widened.

"How's Mordred?" she asked. "Your son?"

"And your nephew," Morgause pointed out. "He's fine," she shrugged. "A good little tike."

"And-" Morgan gulped, "Arthur?"

Morgause laughed, the cackle of a witch. "Do you really think I'd be out wandering around if that oaf had a say?"

"Is he alright?" Morgan repeated, clearly growing more alarmed. Morgause met her eyes harshly.

"No," she said. "He's dead. He died in an ogre attack after the Evil Queen's curse broke." Morgan's mouth opened but no noise came out, and she appeared to choke on her own tongue as she fell to her knees and Emma saw tears fall from her eyes. Morgause laughed in response. Emma couldn't take merely standing still anymore and was just about to move and grab her sword to decapitate Morgause if possible, when the witch whistled to the Shadow and it rushed forward.

All she could see was black.

…

Killian groaned as he opened his eyes. The Shadow must've knocked him unconscious. _At least I can move, _he thought as he went to rub his head, but felt restraints on his hand and stub and feet. Looking around he realized he was in the back of wagon, tied up by some rope. His hook was nowhere to be seen, but his brace was still on. The wagon rocked around and his head banged on the wood, causing him to growl frustratedly. He sat up to the best of his ability, and he could see Emma across from him, also bound and waking up. "Ugh," she said, opening her eyes and upon seeing him raising her eyebrows in puzzlement.

"It appears we've been captured darling," he explained, and they both turned their heads to see Morgan was also in the wagon, knees tucked to her chest and arms around them, head down. "Fay?" Killian called warily. She sniffled and looked up with bleary tear-stained eyes. "You're not tied up! Let us out!"

"I can't," she whimpered and held up her wrist and held up her wrist, on which was a black leather cuff. "It's magic. I can't use my own magic with it on me."

"We know. Pan makes those. Well what do we do?" Emma asked. Morgan didn't answer, burying her head back in her arms. "Look, Arthur was your brother right?"

No answer.

"I' sorry that he's dead, but we're not, and can we at least try to keep it this way? Do you really want to give your sister the satisfaction of winning?" Morgan stirred, and looked dejectedly at her company, though her eyes held steely vindication.

"She's going to try to break me," she said. "You two she'll probably keep prisoners. She likes games, and pets. Be interesting, and she'll want to keep you around to manipulate you. The more she enjoys you, the more freedom you'll get and the more opportunity you'll have to find out where Pan and I are. Then you can get me out, I can get you the blade, and this can all be over."

"How do we get her to like us?" Killian asked.

"She's had prisoners of all kinds. Not much would impress her," Morgan said, shaking her head. "They've been spunky, shy, rude, nice… unless…" her tone picked up and met Killian and Emma's eyes with hope. "You two. You have to act like you love each other!"

"What?" Emma scoffed, and Killian cringed at how offended she sounded. Was loving Killian Jones really that bad? Loving Emma Swan wasn't, he knew that much.

"Yes," Morgan said. "She'll love that. She might even try to break you up, and that means she'll talk to you a lot, tell you a lot of things, things we can use."

"Can't we just jump off the wagon?" Emma asked.

"No!" Morgan said.

"If Pan's Shadow is here, so is he. Nearby. This Morgause probably knows where he is. We can use her to figure out not only how to escape, but where Pan is, and once we have the Blade killing him will be that much easier."

"Besides," said Morgan. "We go past the invisible border she cast around this wagon and we'll disintegrate."

"I thought you and I could resist magic," Emma said.

"Only if it's not strong enough." Emma sighed deeply, looking over to Killian, who smiled.

"It's not like we haven't kissed before love." he said, and she rolled her eyes. _I hope she knows I won't be pretending,_ he thought as the wagon slowed and then stopped. The Shadow descended upon them and grabbed them, lifting them up. In a moment he was on the ground next to Morgan and Emma, and he could feel stone below him and see Morgause standing triumphantly above them. _We're probably right outside her lair._ She waved her hand he found himself being magically righted and stood on his feet, in between Morgan and Emma. Morgause smiled.

"Just thought I'd check on you before I send you off into the dungeon," she said. Killian remembered his part, and without fault he opened his mouth in "shock" and looked over to Emma frantically. She stood next to him, and her stormy eyes met his with a panicked frown.

"It's alright," she said worriedly. "We'll get out of this, right?" He nodded with a sad frown and leaned forward, lips meeting hers. She closed her eyes and leaned into the kiss, lips moving with his. The rest of the world fell away as he kissed his Swan for the second time, this one slow and soft and gentle, until he felt a sharp kick at his heel and Morgan was reminding him was all just an act. And act he was overdoing. He pulled away, eyes on Emma's and hand longing to be in her hair. She looked back with the same frown, cheeks just as red as his probably were. He realized their foreheads were touching and backed away, closing his mouth and licking his lips. Emma gulped and turned to Morgause defiantly. "Do your worst," she said, words confident and assured. Killian's heart was elated, but then remembering she was pretending it plummeted to sit like a rock in his chest. _She's good,_he complimented silently and bitterly. _I almost thought she cared for a moment there. _He could see their display had accomplished something when Morgause's eyebrows shot up and her mouth twitched. He stifled his satisfied smile just before the Shadow knocked him out again and he fell unconscious with the taste of Emma on his lips.

_**Almost Christmas/New Year! As a gift I gave you a Captain Swan kiss! You're welcome. How do you think Killian and Emma will cope with this whole "pretending" thing? Are they really pretending? Who knows! Please drop a review, favorite, and/or follow. Thanks for reading!**_


	15. Playing it for the Cameras

Chapter Fifteen: Playing it For the Cameras

…

_Making every kind of silence, It takes a lot to realize_

_Its worse to finish then to start all over and never let it lie._

_And as long as I can feel you holding on. I won't fall, even if you said I was wrong._

_I know that I'm not perfect but I keep trying cause that's what I said I would do from the start._

_I'm not alive if I'm lonely, so please don't leave._

_~Perfect, Hedley_

…

Emma slipped back into consciousness and bolted up. She looked around in a panic to find she was in a dingy cell that was about ten feet wide. The walls were made of earthenly beige clay. She touched it tentatively to find it was smooth to the touch but as hard as cement. The air reeked of rodent crap and rotten food, and the floor was much harder than the walls, covered in straw. There was no cot or bed of any kind, and one spot of the straw was clearly drenched and smelled like yellow snow would if it was straw instead of snow. The only light to be seen filtered through a small window made of bars set in the iron door, to which there didn't seem to be a knob. Emma stood and brushed herself off, noticing a slumped form in the corner of the cell. She loped over to it, and upon noticing it was covered with leather she sighed. _Killian._ She knelt by him and shook his shoulder until he woke. "Swan?" he questioned, looking up at her.

"Yeah, it's me," she said.

"Well, that was fun wasn't it?" She rolled her eyes at him and while he rubbed his head she saw something flicker in the corner of her eye. Head whipping around, she could see that it looked like a magical gray cloud floating in the corner of the cell. Taking an intuitive leap as to what it was she grabbed Killian's collar and brought him to her in an embrace.

Nuzzling her head into his shoulder, she whispered cautiously, "Do you see the magic cloud in the corner?"

She waited and knew he was squinting as he looked for it. "No, but it seems like there's some sort of strange atmosphere over there. By the way, I'm glad you didn't stand on ceremony this time darling." She grunted in disgust and shook her head.

"We're being watched, probably by Morgause," she said. Adjusting herself, she made it so Killian was leaning against the wall and she was snuggling against his torso.

"Love, what are you doing?" he asked, arms splayed out in an effort not to touch her.

"Playing it for the cameras," she said as if it were obvious. "Now hold me." When he didn't respond she sighed. "Killian, please." He did as she asked, murmuring an "As you wish milady". After a couple of moments she shifted her head to crane up at him, to see him frowning and staring at the adjacent wall as if he could make it crumble if he thought hard enough. Without realizing it herself, she cuddled deeper into him, not only for her own comfort but for his. When she noticed what she had done she made many hasty excuses in her mind, but didn't dare pull away. _We have to trick Morgause_, she thought. _Not me. But is it really a trick that you feel this way?_ another voice inside her piped up, but she bound and gagged it with a tired sigh, closing her eyes and making an effort to forget her troubles. She breathed slowly and deeply, her lungs taking in the scent of Killian with every inhalation. She looked up at him once more to see him simply staring down at her as if in awe, but looked away quickly with a blush and before she knew it she had fallen asleep.

…

Emma woke up, curled into a ball. The cell was still very rank, and without thinking she brought her knees closer to herself and pulled her head to them, trying to be able to sleep some more. She realized her back was pressed up against something very warm and very comfortable, and when she rolled over she found herself staring straight at Killian's chest hair. He slept very differently than her, basically just lying down with his eyes closed like a plank of wood. Emma wondered where he got that reformity from before poking him in the ribs as she scooted over half a foot. He raised his hand to his eyes and rubbed each on, propping himself up on his elbows. "Good morning," he greeted with a lecherous smile that Emma countered with a tightlipped one. He began patting his person as if looking for something. "Bloody hell," he hissed after he apparently couldn't find it.

"What is it?" Emma asked as she stood.

"That damn wench took my rum. And my jacket. This place would be a lot easier to deal with if I was drunk, you know." Emma chuckled as she paced the cell and kicked up straw. Killian suddenly grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"What?" she seethed as she ripped her arm from his grasp. His eyes flashed with what may have been hurt but he kept them trained on the door to the hallway.

"Someone's coming," he said. Emma met his eyes with her mischievous smile and got up. "No!" he cried. "It could be Morgause!"

"Or it could be a dumb guard," Emma countered. She was standing cautiously by the door when footsteps came and stopped. There seemed to be the jingling of something and a shadow had come across the window, but instead of being opened a slot at the bottom of the door was, and a tray was slid in. Before Emma could react there was some more jingling and the slot seemed to have disappeared. Killian scooted over after a few seconds of Emma pouting at the door and put his hand tenderly on her shoulder. She flinched and almost pulled away, but then she remembered their roles.

"Patience, lass," Killian whispered kindly before coming to sit with her and draw her attention to the tray. "Look, they brought us breakfast." The tray was wooden and on top of it was a wooden cup filled with dirty water and a lump of what looked like canned cat food that had stayed in the shape of the can when it was taken out.

"Looks more like what they found when Morgause last left her toilet." Killian laughed as used his braced stub to poke at the strange mass. It wiggled like jello and he drew away quickly.

"Well, it's all yours."

"What?"

"I may not have much my dear, but I have my dignity."

"Says the man who shamelessly flirts with anything on two legs."

"Says the woman who stubbornly refuses anyone who cares." They both glared at each other for moment, Killian's lips twitching into the slightest of playful smiles as his eyes challenged her. She almost laughed but settled for scoffing and rolling her eyes exaggeratedly, smiling secretly when she'd turned her head away. Killian side-eyed the mound of mystery meat (or vegetable; honestly, who knew?) before balking in disgust and standing up to shuffle around the cell. Emma sighed and edged over to the wall, leaning against it in the corner. She picked up a particularly thick piece of straw and twirled it in her fingers casually. She did that for she didn't know how long. Killian would occasionally approach her but she brushed him off. It must have been quite a few hours later when Killian simply came and sat down beside her, their arms brushing. She was about to move away when he brushed his fingers along her cheek, guiding her to face him as he brought his mouth to her ear.

"I thought we had to keep up appearances."

"Right," Emma whispered back, though she could barely hear herself over the rapid pounding of her heart. "Of course." He placed a kiss on her neck before pulling away to simply continue to sit, and she stayed there as well, not meeting his eyes as she remained stock still. She felt Killian stiffen beside her, and knew why when she heard faint footfalls that steadily grew louder. They were the distinct clickety clack of high heels as they came to stop in front of their cell. Killian and Emma both rushed to their feet as the door opened and there Morgause stood. She smiled amiably at them, though both could see to the malice underneath.

"I'd like to speak to you," she crooned. Emma and Killian exchanged a triumphant glance. They were already getting what they wanted. Morgause flicked her fingers and two guards appeared behind her in the doorway. "_Separately._" The guards came in and grabbed Emma. She squirmed and kicked but they held firm, and their metal armour protected them from her furious kicks. Killian's eyes widened and he tried to rush one of the guards, but Morgause restrained him with magic. And suddenly she was being pulled away out of the cell and into the torchlit dungeon, Killian looking worriedly after her. Morgause flashed her a grin and a wink before she waved her hand and the door slammed shut.


	16. Tempting Pain

Chapter Sixteen: Tempting Pain

…

_Oh, love, here you come again_

_And when you go, who will pull me out the wreckage_

_Oh, love, I will track you down_

_~Oh Love, William Beckett_

…_.._

Killian's knees buckled beneath him when Morgause released her magical hold on him. He gasped for air briefly before standing and wiping himself off, glaring daggers at the grinning witch. "So," she began. "What is your name?"

"Captain Hook." he said, leaning against the wall. She smiled.

"Then why does your lover call you 'Killian'?" Killian nearly laughed when Morgause called Emma his lover, but that was what they were going for.

"Because I wasn't born with a hook for a hand," he retorted sassily, gesturing with his stub for effect. He wouldn't give her any leeway. She picked the wrong pirate to take rum from, considering the mood he was currently in. Emma pretending to love him was really confusing, and it hurt like hell. She chuckled darkly, walking closer to him. She reached behind her back, and when she brought her hand out it held a flask.

"Do you want a drink?" she asked, and snatched it from her immediately, taking a swig to the numb burning of rum that he welcomed wholeheartedly. "How do you know I didn't poison it?"

"If you wanted to kill me, you would've done so by now," he stated as he wiped his lips. She nodded and sidled yet closer to him. His eyebrows shot up in bewilderment as she used her delicate hand to push him against the wall, bringing her face within a breath of his. The scene easily reminded him of when Regina had propositioned him to kill her mother.

"You're not wrong," she said slowly and huskily, and he quirked an eyebrow at her. She was a pretty good temptress he had to admit, but he knew could not be swayed. "I have other uses for you."

"I'm sure you do," he said blandly, and she smiled more at him before plunging her hand into his chest. He opened his mouth in a gasp of pain.

"Hush boy, and don't struggle," she said. "You'll only tempt pain." When she removed her hand within it was Killian's heart, protected by a veil of magic. It was red underneath, crisscrossed with black all over it except in the center, where a large red spot that seemed to be quickly taking over grew. "Let's have a look." Morgause mused. She examined his heart, occasionally looking at him and clucking her tongue in admonishment. After a bit she shoved his heart back into his chest without warning, and he nearly keeled over. "Good boy," she complimented, patting his shoulder. He glared at her. She smiled again, this time seductively. "Would you like a reward for your cooperation?" she whispered into his neck as she still had him against the wall. He wasn't having any of it though.

"Yes," he said coolly. "My freedom." She chuckled and ran her hands along his exposed chest where his vest tapered. He flinched at the cold of her fingertips, and as gently as he could he grabbed her hands with his and moved them away so he sidestep away from the trap against the wall. "Apologies, darling, but I'm taken." She scowled at him with new contempt, but also something akin to respect in her withering gaze.

"Do you really love her?" she pouted.

"Irrevocably and unconditionally, wholly and truly," he answered without pause. She appraised him for a moment more before rushing forward and forcefully kissing him on the lips. She tasted like the kind of poison someone wouldn't recognize until it was too late, and he tried to pull away. She grabbed his hair and shoved his face closer to hers in response. _Only Emma can grab my hair! _he inwardly protested as she moved her lips aggressively along his. He was finally able to pull away, mouth open in appallment as she sneered dastardly at him. "I do hope you're not going to try and force yourself on me." She balked and laughed.

"No, Captain. You'll come to me. And you'll want it, I promise you." She brought her face close to his again with a threatening and certain glare.

"Want what? Another flask of rum? Well I certainly wouldn't protest if you were to offer." She shook her head and flashed him another lascivious look before whipping around and clickety-clacking out of the cell, swaying her hips with authority. Once the door was closed Killian scoffed and began wiping his mouth furiously. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, leaning against the wall. _Oh Emma,_ he fretted. _Where the hell are you?_

…_.._

Emma heard high heels approaching and stuffed as many handfuls of grapes into her pockets as she could, stuffing her mouth for good measure. She'd been escorted to what she assumed was Morgause's throne room, where a lavish golden chair overlooked a lounge-like area. Morgause said she was going to go visit her cellmate before speaking to her. Emma was currently sitting on a velvet loveseat and glowering at the guards who stood watch over her. It wasn't long after she heard the steps that Morgause swaggered into the room with a faux kind smile in place. She walked over to the adjacent loveseat to Emma's, and the blonde gulped her chewed grapes. They caught in her throat and she coughed and spluttered before swallowing again and regaining her composure as Morgause sat. "Emma, right?" she questioned as she plucked one of the few remaining grapes from its ornate bowl on a pedestal and examined it. After a moment she licked her lips as if to remember the taste of something, and shook her head, putting the grape back down. "Emma Swan?"

"Yeah," Emma confirmed with a ginger nod.

"I apologize for your previous living arrangements. That cell mustn't have been very nice."

"Well, we are your prisoners," Emma shrugged, and Morgause held up her finger, moving it back in forth as if to scold her.

"No!" she protested with a light tone. "My dear sister is a prisoner. She would never entrust anyone else with the sword's location so I don't need to tor, er, _interrogate_ you or your beloved."

"Then why not let us go?" Emma asked with narrowed eyes.

"Because you're just so precious!" she said, leaning forward to pinch Emma's cheek. Emma flinched but resisted the urge to pull away or spit on her face. Morgause spread her hand out, rubbing the side of Emma's face gently. When she pulled away she did it hard and fast, stinging Emma's cheek. She could see the drops of blood on Morgause's nails. The woman brought her hand to her face, looking it over for a second. She let out a soft "Hmm" before licking the blood off of each one of her nails and smiling innocently at Emma. She cleared her throat when she was finished and straightened up some more before continuing. The urge to punch her was growing every second. "Besides," she said sweetly. "My ally doesn't want you two going anywhere just yet. You are both covetous commodities you see, and rather fun playthings!" She giggled and rubbed her hands together, standing up and offering her hand to Emma. Emma purposely looked at it and stood on her own anyway. Morgause gave her an unreadable look but said nothing as she had the guards come over and secure Emma, leading them out of the throne room and down a posh hallway, until they reached a large door. "This is your suite," Morgause explained, gesturing to the guards. They released Emma and she immediately bolted, but before she could get anywhere Morgause snatched her arm and twisted it towards her, snapping something on. The guards reaffirmed their hold on her and shoved her into the suite after Morgause opened the door. Emma rushed toward the doorway, stopping only when Morgause tutted at her with a knowing smile. "Uh, uh, uh," she sneered. "That bracelet I just put on prevents you from leaving the suite without me in your company and not being put unconscious until only I wake you. That is of course, after you are subjected to large amounts of pain." Emma glared daggers at her, stepping back a few steps as Morgause made to shut the door. Before she did she said one last thing. "Your dear Captain shall be up shortly. You should tell him that he isn't worthy of such a faithful woman." Emma was left with a mind swimming with questions and a cheek red with drying blood, neither problem she expected to be resolved soon.

_**I hope everyone had a merry Christmas, or if you don't celebrate, a fun winter break! Unless of course you had work or something and didn't get a break... but now I'm rambling. I hope you enjoyed these two chapters (I personally grossed myself out making Morgause kiss Killian. LEAVE HIM ALONE YOU EVIL SEDUCTRESS!). Please follow, favorite, and/or review and thanks for reading!**_


	17. Darling Don't Lie

Chapter Seventeen: Darling Don't Lie

…..

_All your life you've waited_

_For love to come and stay_

_And now that I have found you_

_You must not slip away_

_I know it's hard believin'_

_The words you've heard before_

_Darlin', you must trust them please_

_Trust them just once more._

_~Goodbye Girl, Hootie and the Blowfish_

…_._

Killian sighed exasperatedly and kicked out at the straw in his frustration. Having to fight so hard for everything was really exhausting. _A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets,_ a voice reminded him, and another one made itself known by saying _Yeah, but what if what he wants doesn't want him?_ He sighed again, his frustration turning the tired breath into a growl before it escaped his mouth and he lashed out at the wall with his fist, only succeeding in tarnishing one of his silver rings. As he examined the scratch it now had from scraping up against the wall he huffed indignantly. What kind of ring couldn't withstand punching a wall? Then again, what ring could withstand over 300 years of wear and tear? Another growl-sigh, this one of exhaustion came from his parted lips as he leaned against the wall. Suddenly he heard more footsteps approaching and straightened up, facing the door defiantly. He hadn't heard any heels bit that did not mean it wasn't Morgause, and the guards still deserved to have their boots spit on. Shadows crossed the door as it was opened and Emma was quickly shoved in, completely intact and unharmed, save for her red leather jacket now missing. She fell into the straw with her arms splayed out and rose to her feet in a flash.

Killian rushed forward to greet her, taken by surprise when she hugged him and squeezed tightly. He held her as well, but tentatively, as if afraid she may pull away at any moment. She did, but she looked at Killian with a kind of smile he'd never seen cross her face. "Are you alright, Swan?" he questioned, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek and voicing the question he was internally cursing himself for not asking sooner. He expected her to pull away, but instead, Emma brought her own hand up to lay on top of Killian's and hold it at her cheek. Her hand was unusually cold. She grinned at him and he smiled softly, albeit unsurely, at her, when she was quite suddenly kissing him. He immediately closed his eyes and reciprocated her passionate, uncharacteristically aggressive, movements and before he knew what was really going on he and she were on the straw. "Emma," he breathed in between kisses, and she offered no response except to hold his face for a moment and smirk at him before beginning to undo his vest. "Wait," he chuckled, wanting to know why she suddenly so eager to undress him and tickled by her chilly touch. She didn't answer so he gently grabbed her hand and pulled it away from him, drawing her attention to his eyes.

"What?" she asked, almost impatiently.

"I'm not complaining love," Killian began with a half-smile. "But what had you so worked up that you would do what I think you want to do with me here and now?" Lowering his voice and bringing his face closer to hers within a sincere look that screamed at her to trust him, he asked, "What's wrong, Emma?" She looked taken aback and something flashed in her eyes. If Killian didn't know Emma he would think it was sadistic pleasure, the kind of look Pan would get when he thought he'd fooled someone. But this was his Swan, and she wasn't like that.

"Do you want me?" she asked, avoiding the question. Killian opened and closed his mouth, not sure what was going on with her but knowing she wasn't herself all of a sudden.

"Yes, but that's not the po-" she cut him off but colliding her lips with his again as she continued to take his upper body wear off. She kissed differently, and tasted like the kind of poison one wouldn't recognize until it was too late…. letting out a gasp of realization he flung himself away from her, banging his head against the wall of the cell as he furiously wiped his lips for the second time that day. "Morgause!" he hissed at her. Emma laughed cruelly at him as she snapped her fingers and was briefly engulfed by a cloud of purple smoke before it faded away and her true form was left kneeling in the straw and grinning triumphantly at him. "How…" he mouthed as she stood and wiped herself off, towering above his splayed out self.

"Magic, you twit!" she laughed. "A bit of Emma's blood, a look at her apparel and I've got the perfect recipe for disaster. I told you you'd want me Captain, and I always keep my word."

"I could never want you!" Killian spat. "I want Emma! And that will not change because of your trickery!" Morgause narrowed her eyes at him before shrugging.

"Oh well. That didn't stop it from being fun. Now get up. You have new accommodations to get to." He shuffled to his feet, all the while glaring ruthlessly at Morgause as he followed her out of the cell. She clasped some sort of bracelet on him and babbled on about it keeping him from leaving his new cell, and escorted him along a posh hallway. He had just finished buttoning his shirt and vest and trying to get rid of the taste of Morgause in his mouth by spitting on the ground as she opened the door and gestured for him to go inside. He cast her one last icy glower before stepping into the room and suddenly being squeezed have to death. He smelled he foresty, evergreen scent and breathed it in as he wrapped his arms around the real, red jacket wearing, warm touch having Emma. She pulled away and offered him a genuine smile. Her cheek was red with nail marks that had dried droplets of blood on them, and Killian tucked away one more reason to murder Morgause, mentally noting that that one reason counted for fifty because she had physically harmed Emma.

"I thought she did something to you," Emma said, shaking her head and jolting him form his thoughts. "I didn't get much of a chance to look around, but from what I gathered, this place is a lot nicer than that cell." Killian lifted his head from the tiled black floor to see that they were in a large room with a red velvet couch on a crocodile skin rug on one side in front of a crackling fireplace, while on the other side of the room was a king-sized fluffy red canopied bed with mahogany bed posts.

"Well," he commented. "Morgause certainly seems to have a taste for the darker shades of the rainbow." Emma also scrutinized their surroundings, turning back to Killian with a relieved slump of her shoulders.

"She's not watching us, I don't think," she said. "I guess she got all the info she needed."

"Or she doesn't feel like playing with us anymore."

"That's not necessarily a good thing."

"I know." They exchanged apprehensive looks before Emma turned around and went over to sit on the edge of the bed. She breathed deeply and seemed very interested in the ground. Clearly something was on her mind. Killian furrowed his eyebrows and took a step forward, opening his mouth to address her when she beat him to it herself. "Morgause….said something to me," she began, eyes locked onto Killian's as if searching for the truth in his gaze. He nodded, prompting her to go on, but her voice became expressionless as she finished and looked back down. "Never mind, it's nothing." Killian stepped forward more, until he was in front of Emma as she hung her head.

"Nothing with you means something," he noted aloud with his eyes on her. "Otherwise you wouldn't have mentioned it." She chuckled in defeat as she slowly brought her eyes up to meet his, pausing as she stared at his chest and suddenly stood from the bed, looking at him with interrogative eyes.

"Why is part of your shirt and vest unbuttoned?"

_Crap. _"Uh, what?" He looked down at himself and saw that quite a few of his buttons were out of place. _ am I going to say? Shall I let her know that was willing to take advantage of Morgause or Morgause when I thought she was her, or maybe even both?_ He gave her an innocent smile, trying to play for time. "I guess I'm not the tidiest pirate there is then, eh?" Emma folded her arms as her eyes seared into him, and he knew that this could not end well.

"Morgause told me that you don't deserve such a 'faithful woman'. Care to explain why she would say such a thing?" Killian brought his hand to scratch behind his ear as he began to feel that the room was getting much too hot under the fiery glare of Emma. He tried to think of a way to explain the whole fiasco to her when it suddenly dawned on him that if she could shut him out then he could to the same. That wasn't ideal of course, but she had backed Killian Jones into a corner, and when that happens, the pirate comes out.

"What does it matter?" he shrugged. "We're not actually together anyways." Emma's eyes widened and her mouth flew agape in shock from realizing her suspicion must be true, but she quickly recovered.

"What happened?" she insisted, and Killian sighed.

"Morgause kissed me. Without my consent of course, but it happened. She then came to me under the guise of you and attempted to seduce me. She wasn't successful, as I saw through her ruse rather quickly, but that does not change the fact that it happened."

"How could you do that?!" Emma balked.

"What do you mean? I didn't know who she was? She practically pounced on me anyway!"

Emma stared him down in retort.

"Like I said before, it's not like we're together anyways!" Killian repeated, waving his arms about. "Why would it matter if I was really with someone else and chose to be?" Now it was his turn to stare Emma down. She wasn't going to duck away form her feelings this time.

"Because you said you love me!" she yelled, also gesturing with her arms. "You can't love me if you're off, _fraternizing_ with someone else!"

"Why do you care?" Kilian asked, stepping forward, eyes burning into Emma's as he realize he was getting somewhere. Unshed tears began to brim her eyes and made his heart ache but he knew it would only hurt them both more if he relented and did not break through her walls to the truth. She looked away and he could not have that. "Emma, Emma look at me," he pleaded, and she did, eyes still on the edge of crying. "Have I told you a lie? I love you." She wiped her eyes and shook her head.

"Why would you?"

"Oh for too many reasons to ever name my dear." She smiled a sad broken smile at him before stomping her foot.

"I can't do this right now. There's-"

"There's always something!" Killian cut her off. "You can't keep using excuses, Emma. I need to know. And darling don't lie." He took a deep breath to gather his courage. "Do you love me?" There. He'd said it. He'd asked the question he needed the answer to now more than ever. He'd been content to wait for her to be ready to tell him before but now he thought she needed a push, and could only hope that if it was a misjudgment that it wouldn't destroy everything he held dear. Which was precious little save for her. He watched as she looked at him and gulped. A single tear rolled down her face as she answered.

"Yes."

_**DUN DUN DUN. Bet you thought she was going to say no! HA! I don't always make thing that predictably angsty, do I? Anyway, what can I say? I'm a fan of true love, dearies. And I would like to thank you all so very much for your support, favorites, follows, and reviews! Next chapter may take a bit to get out, but fret not, it'll be a good one! I'd also like to give a belated special thanks to **__Ryu Forte__**for suggesting some songs. You rock! As always, thanks for reading!**_


	18. Fortune Favors None

Chapter Eighteen: Fortune Favors None

….

_I never loved nobody fully_

_Always one foot on the ground_

_And by protecting my heart truly_

_I got lost in the sounds_

_I hear in my mind_

_All these voices_

_I hear in my mind all these words_

_I hear in my mind all this music_

_And it breaks my heart_

_~Fidelity, Regina Spektor_

….

Emma gasped at her own words, trying to desperately think of a way to take it back. _Yes, I said yes!_ she screamed internally at herself. _Is it true….? No, that doesn't matter. Neal and I loved each other, that didn't stop him from doing what he did. _But there stood Killian with a face that looked as if it would split from the huge smile on it, ardent and unwavering love in his eyes. "Emma…" he uttered in a voice barely above a whisper that sent shivers down her spine, taking a step forward with his arm outstretched to her. She swiped it away and wiped her face, backing up as she tried to make up for what she said. She had her eyes on the ground and her mouth open, but no words would come out. She couldn't bring herself to lie to him, or to take it back. But she couldn't bring herself to accept that she loved this man, despite her words. Killian watched her worriedly, and when she finally brought her eyes up to his he opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the squeak of the door knob turning. Emma whipped around, eager for any kind of distraction, to see a boy holding a tray. He looked to be about 16 years old, long and lanky and sort of spindly in a refined way. He stood relatively straight, although he slouched meekly as he entered the room. He had a small, well-groomed mop of brown hair on his head, light skin similar in shade to Morgan's and Morgause's, and sapphire blue eyes.

"Wonderful," he muttered loudly in an Irish accent. "I have supper duty with an invalid and waterfall maker." Someone who looked like a butler passed by and narrowed his eyes at the child's comment as the newcomer closed the door. He rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at the door before trotting jovially over to Killian and Emma. "Sorry about that," he shrugged as he put the tray on the bed and stood to face them with a bright smile that reminded Emma of Henry. The tray had what must've been their dinner, goblets of wine, bowls of some sort of pasta and salad as well. "Do you know how hard it is to get my mother mad enough at me to notice? It's been what, _days_ since you new prisoners arrived and I haven't been able to get a good look at you!" Emma instinctively went to share a befuddled look with Killian, but when his eyes met hers they silently and simultaneously dared and questioned about what had just transpired between them. She looked back at the teenager, who was rambling on about something and motioned downward with her hands to calm him.

"Whoa, kid, whoa," she said, a pang of longing hitting her when she said "kid", her habitual nickname for Henry. "Who are you?" The boy made a strange face at her, as if he was the one who should be asking her who she was. Sure enough, his next words attested to that.

"First I want to know about you two. I always talk to the hostages. You're Emma Swan and Captain Hook, right?" Emma and Killian nodded slowly and warily. "So," he said, leaning back on the bed and grabbing a goblet which he promptly took a sip of. "How'd you get yourselves in this mess?" Killian gulped as he appraised the boy before swiping the goblet from him and chugging the wine. "Hey!" the teen protested. Mumbling angrily under his breath he moved his hands in a strange pattern and another goblet appeared in his palm. Killian finished the wine and wiped his mouth, eyes narrowing suspiciously at the boy.

"I knew you had magic," he jeered. "How do we know you're not just Morgause under a magical disguise?" The boy scoffed.

"I'll be asking the questions here. And why would Morgause want to appear as her own son?" he retorted. "She could scare you much better on her own." Killian looked to Emma for affirmation, and she gave a clipped nod. This boy was snide and odd, but definitely no liar. She coughed to clear her throat before addressing the teen.

"We were on an important journey. Your mother has a complicated history with our other companion and she found us and locked us up." The boy listened intently, sitting up and leaning forward at the mention of another.

"I haven't heard of anyone else but you two. What is the name of your friend?" he asked, curiosity piqued.

"Morgan le Fay," Killian answered drolly, eyes fixed on the child to gauge his reaction. His eyebrows shot up and his mouth flew agape in shock.

"She's my aunt!" he exclaimed, and though Killian rolled his eyes as if to say "Obviously" Emma finally connected the dots.

"You're Mordred?" she asked. He nodded slowly, though he was still clearly surprised, and started muttering to himself.

"I can't believe…. right under my nose! But then there's that boy…. Mother needs him and she needs the sword….. destroy everything good…."

"Boy!" Killian said, clasping Mordred's shoulder with his hand. "Control yourself and tell us what in the bloody seven circles of hell is going on!" Mordred looked up at him and cleared his throat, regaining his composure. His gaze flashed between Emma and Killian meaningfully as he spoke. "A few weeks, maybe days ago this teenage boy arrived. He was weak and drained and frail looking, and Mother locked him away someplace. I'm positive I wasn't meant to see him, but being stuck in a castle all the time allows one to find ways around others don't know about." He paused to smile proudly at himself, but with a squeeze on the shoulder where the pirate's hand still was from Killian, he continued. "She visits him often, at least everyday, and it's always clandestine. I've a place near that room where I can go and listen in unseen, and I've tried, but they're always so quiet. From what little I gathered though, they seek the sword of legend before others get to it, I'm guessing Morgan and you, so that they can continue with a larger plan unhindered. But only Arthur and Morgan know where it was hidden, and Arthur's dead. I can only imagine what Morgan is going through right now, and how brave she is to not disclose it's location."

"We're talking about the Vorpal Blade here, right?" Emma asked for clarification. Mordred looked up with his brows furrowed in confusion.

"No, the sword is called Excalibur," he said, and Emma shook her head.

"How can it be both?" she muttered, almost to herself, though Killian answered her.

"If its been in multiple realms then it is possible, likely even that it has received more than one moniker." _You know a lot about that, don't you,_ Emma internally bit out venomously, on edge with all the thoughts swimming in her head. She kept her mouth shut though; it would only confuse matters with Killian more if she were to suddenly treat him like she did before they… started out on this particular journey. She didn't much want to be the first to fall back into that sassy routine and pretend that everything was okay after she confessed love for him. That would imply that she was okay with that, and she wasn't. She needed to figure out a way to take it back, but not before dealing with the more important matters at hand. Pushing aside thoughts of Killian, she focused on the situation before her and a plan began form in her mind.

She looked over to Killian, eyes alight with the strategical thinking going on her head. "We need to escape." He raised his eyebrows, a silent request for her to elaborate. "We got all the information we could possibly need. We know that Pan must be the boy Mordred just mentioned, and that he's weak. That'll make killing him a lot easier once we get the Excali-Vorpal Sword-Blade thing, which we need Morgan for. Mordred knows this place. He can find out where Morgause is keeping her and help all three of us to escape." Killian smiled proudly at her and they both looked excitedly and expectantly over to Mordred, who merely blinked and stared at them blankly.

"You're both mad!" he finally exclaimed, throwing up his arms and pushing away Killian's hand in the process. "Morgan is Mother's most valuable asset right now, and she never lets anything stand in her way. You can't go up against her!"

"We're not going to!" argued Emma. _Not yet anyway._ "We just need to grab our friend and get out!" Mordred shook his head condescendingly.

"She'll find you. She'll find you, kill you both, and then continue to torture Morgan until the only words that she is able to speak out of her wizened, bloody lips is the location of Excalibur, and then she'll kill her and set fire to all of your graves. Not before sentencing me to an infinitely worse punishment than simply never leaving this castle." He spoke the words with such certainty and a strong hint of fear of his own mother that Emma was taken aback and unable to formulate a counterpoint, though she knew they would never succeed without Mordred's aid. Briefly she wondered how Morgause could instill such terror in her own son, but when images began to flash in her mind she dropped the subject quicker than a hot potato. Did Morgause even love Mordred? Did she love _anything_? While she hung her head in sympathy for the boy, Killian continued to try and persuade him.

"Morgan is just as powerful, and you are a magic user too. Not to mention that leading our little trio is the product of True Love, the most powerful magic of all. She's also got a mean punch. And if there is one thing I'm good at, it's surviving. We can do this, but not without you. If you don't want to risk your mother's wrath then just figure out a way to take our bracelets off and let us do the rest ourselves."

Mordred looked almost hopeful for a second, but then dropped his eyes to the ground as he pushed himself off the bed and began to back away. "I-I can't," he whispered with a cracked voice and pitying eyes. "I'm sorry." He turned and fled to the door quickly, though Killian went after him and grabbed his elbow.

"Don't be a coward," he warned through gritted teeth, barely reined anger evident on his face. The boy shook his head again and pushed his other arm out. A wave of blue magic flung Killian backwards, and he landed on his back a few feet away.

"Sorry," Mordred said again before slamming the suite's door and disappearing. Emma watched the door with a concerned frown, desperately trying to think of a new plan. Her hands itched to help Killian up, but she couldn't afford giving him the wrong message. She couldn't be with him no matter what she felt, and giving him that unrealistic hope would hurt far worse than any heartbreak. He grunted and rubbed his back as he stood and Emma could feel his eyes on her.

"Emma," he began, but she held up her palm.

"We need a plan."

"There'll be plenty of time for that."

"You can't be sure of that," she deflected, eyes straining to stay on the door and not look at his face.

"We need to talk."

….

Mordred slinked quietly along the upper corridors, which were eerily empty. He stopped by a large oak door and opened it. It was just an empty room to most, but he knew better. He walked slowly over to the corner, where the wall was just a shade darker. Running his hands down it he found purchase for his fingers toward the bottom and pulled. The section of wall slid easily to the right with a loud gravelly noise, and he slipped into the hidden passage, which was a little shorter than he was and a bit wider. Crouching as he scurried along in the darkness, he expertly navigated through the passage until he could hear muffled chatter. Sidling along the wall, he searched his memory for which section of the wall was thinnest, and moved his ear along until he found it. Kneeling down, he pressed himself close to the wall and his ears strained to catch what his mother was saying to the teenage stranger. She greeted him elegantly, and they had what he figured was banter, probably amidst several withering glares. He caught his aunt's name and listened more closely so that he could catch several snippets of their conversation. "So, did you get it out of her yet?" the boy asked. Mordred remembered that the prisoners had called him "Pan". Thinking of them brought a pang of guilt to his heart and he pushed it away as he listened.

"No," Mother replied. Mordred could swear that in the seconds that followed Pan glared daggers that his mother eagerly returned.

"How…..can it be to…..your own sister after all. Surely you know her weaknesses?" Pan said finally.

"...Maybe I should speak to her companions," Mother offered, and there was a loud banging sound. The wall shuddered and Mordred desperately fought coughing as dust entered his lungs. Someone had just been pushed against the very wall he was listening at.

"They are still alive?" Pan hissed, and Mother laughed as the wall shifted slightly again and Mordred figured she must have pushed him off.

"Do not question me, boy!" she warned sweetly but hostilely. They were getting farther away and it was getting harder to hear.

"Oh, please!" Pan scoffed. "I'm old enough….half your grandfather!" Mordred had no idea what that meant, but kept listening. Their voices became far more muffled and he couldn't make out a thing. Sighing in defeat he began to sneak back down the passage, until he very clearly heard what his mother said next.

"They were getting boring anyway. Fine, Miss Swan and her pirate will perish. Tonight." Mordred covered his gasping mouth with his hand and could now hear nothing but the pounding of his heart. If he didn't help them escape they would die! But his mother would make not only them but him suffer if he aided them. He shook his head as he finally made it out of his secret passage and into the empty room, leaning against the wall and breathing slowly. _Morgan would know what to do,_ he thought. And then the sudden need to see his aunt struck him. Maybe she could help him. Maybe she would tell him to help her, or put his conscience at ease by telling him not to risk it, but he needed to see his family. The only family that he had left that cared for him.

…..

There Emma stood, simply staring at Killian as she waited for him to say something. When he just looked at her she shrugged plaintively. "Well, you just said we need to talk. So talk." He appeared to snap out of a trance and cleared his throat.

"Emma, you said you love me," he said. "That's not the kind of thing one just says and lets lie on the ground like a dead mouse."

"No one lets dead mouses-_mice_-," she corrected herself, so flustered by the joyful look on his face that she apparently couldn't speak the English language. "-lie on the ground if they're dead, Killian! And why can't I; you did!"

"Well both of us hadn't admitted it. I love you and you love me, Emma. Do you know what that means?" he looked at her intensely and she kept her lips pursed. If she acknowledged that she loved him again he wouldn't let it go. _Damn, I'm not even sure how to make him let this go! I can't be with him, and if he knows-thinks-I love him then it'll only be harder._ She couldn't bring herself to open up and let him in, no matter what emotions had revealed themselves earlier. She had to put her feelings away, to lock them down, to hide behind her walls, because that was who she was after being broken so many times. And she couldn't bring herself to change, not even for him. If she did, she was afraid it would all be in vain. It always was, and she always ended up burnt, the people around her suffering for it. She couldn't even bring herself to hold her son when he was born because she was left so dejected! For hers and Killian's sake she now knew what she had to do. She couldn't be with him no matter what she felt, and she didn't want him to be dragged along by hope that would only leave him scarred and hurt once he lost it. _Better to leave him brokenhearted now than to let him drag this on any longer,_ she told herself. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't even hear what he was saying until the touch of his hand on her arm snapped her back into reality. "We love each other," he said calmly, elatedly, certainly, truthfully, lovingly, eyes shining brighter than stars as they burned into hers and even flickered to her lips. She swallowed, her own heart breaking as she looked to the ground and spoke.

"I don't love you," she said, hoping she sounded stronger than she felt. Then again, she felt like shriveling into a raisin and dying. He scoffed with disbelief, bringing his hand to her chin and attempting to make her look at him, but she swiped it away.

"Then why would you say-"

"I lied. I was confused and unsure and I lied. But I'm sure now." She watched his boots and knew he was just standing there, dumbfounded. Slowly she brought her head up and hoped he was looking at the ground so that she didn't have to meet his eyes. His beautiful, beautiful eyes. But when her head rose their gazes locked, his scorching into hers. His eyes swam with many emotions, a mixture of pain and understanding, mostly anger and sadness. He moved his hand forward and before she could protest he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You're a terrible liar, love. But, as you wish," he said in a sad and regretting voice before dropping his eyes to the ground and giving an exaggerated bow. When he brought himself up his features were hardened and he smiled at her without warmth, though she could see that this facade was just there to hide his hurt. Emma wiped away the tears she didn't realize had been falling from her eyes, and looked away. What had she just done?

…

Mordred breathed heavily from the exertion. He didn't know how long he'd been searching but he believed he'd finally found Morgan's cell. But holding his breath as he hid from that guard may not have been the best of ideas. At least now he had the keys. He would've opened the door with magic if he could, but the cell was housing a powerful sorceress and he doubted it would be receptive to those efforts. So he sidled up to the door and searched through the key ring until his sharp eyes landed on a unique one that was much less rusted than the others and curved into a wave-like shape at the end. Sticking it into the keyhole of the cell, he turned it and smiled when he heard the satisfying click. Pushing the door open warily, he stopped to grab a torch from the dungeon wall as he stepped into the cell. "Morgan?" he called uncertainly, stepping forward again. His knee hit something and he brought the torch forward to illuminate it, gasping at the sight before him. Strapped to a table in nothing but white cloth undergarments now stained with blood, Morgan lay with cuts and burns crisscrossing her skin. Her lips were dry and cracked, and her ribs poked out from underneath her skin. Her hair was matted with dirt and blood, and her eyes were blank and pained. "Morgan," he breathed as he rushed to her side. He didn't care if the cell repelled magic, he concentrated until a canteen of water poofed into his hands and cutting the bonds that held her with a knife at his side, Mordred gently lifted her head and poured the water into her mouth. She coughed and spluttered before gulping eagerly at the liquid, and Mordred would've made her food, but his magical energy waned and he was already taxed. When she was finished she sat up gratefully with his help and hugged him. He remembered the advice he'd come to her for but shook his head. Upon seeing his aunt that way, his mind was made up and he was going to help the prisoners. "Come on," he ushered her off of the table as she leaned against him for support.

"I can't thank you enough, Mordred, and you don't know how good it is to see you," Morgan began, her voice raspy and rough. "But what are we doing?"

"We have work to do."

….

Killian sat on the couch, glowering at the crocodile skin rug. It reminded him of Rumplestiltskin, and his life's mission before he met that confounded woman. Anger surged through him, and he could bring himself to look at her sitting on the bed. It wasn't hard to discern her blatant lie, but he couldn't force her to accept the truth. He didn't even know how, and he wouldn't want to. Emma was a mess, and an incredibly confusing one at that. Just when he thought they were getting somewhere her walls snapped back into place and she refused to accept what she felt. Not giving him a straight answer was befuddling enough without her admitting how she felt and then taking it back because she was afraid of getting too close and hurt. _Does she even feel the same way,_ he silently doubted. _Maybe she pushes you away because she doesn't love you after all._ But no, then why was she so clearly lying, even tears in her eyes when she took back her confession? If she didn't at least feel something for him, then he was bloody blind, ignorant and stupid. Which he knew he wasn't, at least when it came to her. _Bloody hell, Emma_, he internally groaned. Why? _But If you really want to lie, I'll play along._ Pushing away the heartache and sadness he let his anger over the situation become his focus. He wasn't angry with Emma, no matter how hard he tried he couldn't dredge up any ill will for her, but he could hate her damned walls and the way she was currently denying everything he tried to show her as much as he wanted. And he would. And he sure wasn't planning on being subtle about it. Feeling this renewed vigor in him, Killian kicked at the rug with a smile, imagining it was his longtime foe. He may have abandoned his quest for revenge, but that didn't mean he despised the imp any less. There was a knock on the door, and he looked over to Emma, puzzled. She also looked to him but when she caught his eyes she looked away and moved to the door. Killian's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but he got up as well and followed the blonde. She opened the door and a slumped form was practically thrown at them. The frail body landed on Killian and he fumbled with it before realizing it was a person. An alive person. And one that he recognized. "Morgan!" he exclaimed as his eyes took her in. She was skinny and wearing a plain sleeveless white gown that looked like it had been stolen from a pile of laundry, and probably was. All over her arms and legs were fresh, shallow cuts and burns, bruises of every color under the rainbow. There were heavy circles under her weary eyes and her hair was a raggedy mess, but she still managed to straighten herself elegantly, though she used his body as an anchor. She smiled tightly at him and Emma and shrugged.

"What, did you think she'd been pampering me?" her voice was cracked and dry, but Killian could hear the determined strength and perseverance underneath it that dared them to challenge her. Mordred, who was beside her in the doorway, grabbed her arm and draped it over his shoulder, helping her toward the untouched tray of food that was sitting on the bed.

"Come now, you need to eat," he said softly and she nodded eagerly, digging into one of the bowls of pasta that was most definitely cold by now. He turned to Emma and Killian with steely eyes, and jutted his chin out authoritatively as he spoke. "I've decided to help you," he declared, and Killian had to admire his newfound bravery.

"Why?" he asked. The teen smirked and produced something from a satchel at his side, tossing it to Killian. The pirate caught his hook deftly and snapped it into place immediately with a anticipatory grin.

"Because I'm not a coward." He nodded slowly at the boy's response, quirking an eyebrow in respect.

"What's the plan, then?" asked Emma. Morgan wiped her mouth and stood, answering the question herself.

"We get you out of those things, and then we get out of here! I'm not yet strong enough to take off your bracelets on my own, and Mordred has spent all the magical energy that's healthy for him to-" Mordred opened his mouth to protest but with a pointed look from Morgan he closed it. Killian marvelled at how much of a mother she was to her nephew, and at how much of one Morgause most definitely was not. "-so I'll need your help Emma." Emma's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You may not be able to properly channel your magic as of yet, but you will give me enough of a boost to do what I need to do." Emma nodded solemnly and Morgan stepped weakly forward. She gripped Emma's hand tightly and with the tiniest puffs of light her hair wafted around her face. Hovering her other hand over the wrist that held Emma's bracelet, she squinted until the purple ripples of magic were visible between her palm and the cuff. With a push towards the cuff it broke and clattered to the ground. Now it was Killian's turn, and he kept his eyes away from Emma's as Morgan worked her magic on him and he was freed as well.

"We'll use the exit from the dungeon, that leads straight into the woods. We run into any kind of trouble and Mothe-er, Morgause, will know what's happening, even if we subdue the problem. So stay quiet and follow my lead," Mordred explained, and everyone gave him terse nods. He crouched and looked over briefly and fretfully at Morgan, who waved him off as she crouched behind him, even though she put her hand on his shoulder to keep herself steady as they moved forward. Emma and Killian followed suit, Killian finding himself looking at his Swan's back as they moved along at what seemed like a snail-like speed. At least it was easier than looking at her face, and her eyes, her smile, her lips…. he snapped himself back to attention as quickly as he could. This was far too serious a situation to get distracted in. One action executed in the briefest of moments could mean the difference between life and death, and he knew that all too well. As he silently thanked his leather for not squeaking he resolved to make sure the rest of his companions would learn that as well, and not the hard way.

…

Emma followed closely behind Morgan, doing her best maintain an acute awareness of their surroundings as Mordred expertly led them through twisting dimly lit passages and turning hallways. Sometimes she was sure they were going up when they were supposed to go down, and at other times it was the opposite. As they crept along a beige clay wall the distinct smell of disease and rot assaulted Emma's senses and she swallowed her urge to spit up bile. They were in the dungeon now. She kept as quiet and alert as ever, each step closer to escape and to her salvation from this mess they were all in. After what felt like decades there was a new scent among the others, this one of crisp and fresh evergreen air instead of putrescence. Emma breathed it in deeply and gratefully, knowing they were at the exit when Mordred stood and wiped himself off. He gestured to a musty wooden door in front of them, out of the cracks in which daylight snaked through. Offering them all a confident and toothy smile, he sighed with relief. "Now, that wasn't so bad, was i-" he was cut off as he suddenly levitated above the ground and grasped at his throat, struggling to breathe.

"Mordred!" Morgan yelled, waving her hand so that the grip of magic lost hold on the teen and he fell, gasping, to the ground. Emma looked behind them to see a stoic and clearly livid Morgause.

"Oh, so you thought you could escape, did you?" she chuckled. "Not a chance, dear sister, swan, and captain. You're all _mine._" The doors were open now, and a mountain breeze rustled Emma's hair and screamed at her to make a run for it, but when she saw Mordred begin to stand, she knew she couldn't. He raised his head defiantly against his mother, hair tousling ever so slightly in the wind as he raised his hands and fireballs grew within them.

"No, Mother," he said simply but confidently. "Not today." And with that he tossed both of the fireballs at a surprised Morgause, who was knocked to the ground and consumed by flames. Not wanting to wait to hear her scream or recover, Emma jerked the arms of Killian and Morgan toward the door, waving her arm wildly at Mordred as well.

"Come on, let's go!" Emma said excitedly, and they all began to run. But somehow the next parts seemed to play themselves out in slow motion. There was a small and surprised squeak from behind her, and Mordred was clinging to tufts of grass for dear life as a fissure suddenly appeared in the earth, the ground having given way beneath him. Everyone rushed over to help and Morgan clasped his hand in hers as she began to haul him up with the help of Killian, and Emma looked over to where she could see a defeated Morgause lying burnt on the ground but grinning sadistically. Before she slumped to the ground that they could no longer reach because of the fissure, she flicked her fingers once more, and when Emma looked back over to Mordred, he had been flayed by her magic and his lifeless, skinless body fell into the gaping hole in the ground. Morgan screamed an awful, bloodcurdling, despairing scream as Emma stood stock still and could only blink in her shock. How could the arrogant, brave, Henry-like teenager be murdered in such a brutal and apathetic way, by his own mother? She watched, still standing still, as Morgan tried to jump into the hole after her nephew and screeched bloody murder and as Killian pulled her back and held her away from it. She fought against him madly, but in her weakened state could do no actual damage. Her streaming tears creating lines of clean on her dirt-covered face and bereaved cries spurred Emma into motion, and before she could gauge what she was actually doing she was cradling Morgan and hugging her, letting her weep and pound on her. Exchanging an look with Killian, they both began to pull her away from the scene, and though at first she protested furiously, once they reached the tree line she simply sobbed on each of them in turn. And Emma did not mind the smallest bit, glad at anything she could do to comfort her grieving friend as they trekked further into the woods and set up camp for the night. Before she fell asleep Emma heard the calls of wolves, long and sorrowful and sad, and when she looked over to Morgan she saw her staring into the trees and knew she heard them too. She knew that she understood them as well.

_**I don't know what to say about this chapter except that I kind of think it's the best one I've written so far... and that I meant to make it painful. But remember, all happy endings start with hope! And I'm hoping you'll follow, favorite and/or review if you haven't already! See what I did there? Yeah, it was lame. Anyways, thanks for reading! Oh, and HAPPY NEW YEAR! It's 2014!**_


	19. Once & Future

Chapter Nineteen: Once and Future

…

_And the tears come streaming down your face_

_When you lose something you can't replace_

_When you love someone, but it goes to waste_

_Could it be worse?_

_Lights will guide you home_

_And ignite your bones_

_And I will try to fix you_

_~Fix You, Coldplay_

…

_**Is it just me, or can all OTPs be easily put into "Fix You"? Seriously though. No? Okay then…. The next section that is completely italicized is a flashback. I would also like to warn you that there is some Captain Swan sassiness in this chapter. I have no shame.**_

…..

_A woman stood resolute at the water's edge of a lake, unmoving as she looked out to the water and her breath billowed from the hood of her cloak into the crisp autumn air. Small wisps of golden hair tousled in the wind, and she sighed deeply before flipping back her hood and turning to the man beside her. He also had golden hair, with copper highlights and ginger stubble etched across his chiseled face. His kind and warm brown eyes drew attention away from the long scar that ran from his left cheekbone by the bridge of his nose down to the bottom of his jaw, cutting through his scruff with a mark of risen, pink skin amidst his lighter complexion. His hair, that reached down shaggily to the bottom of his ears wafted like his companion's in the breeze, and he shuffled slightly in his chainmail armour to turn to her with a determined smile and steely gaze. "Are you ready?" he asked in a lilting accent that was noble yet gruff. _

"_Are you sure about this?" the woman asked in response, her light eyes searing into his nearly black ones, and not missing the uncertainty flashing in them for the briefest of moments before he straightened and spoke confidently._

"_Yes, yes I am." The woman studied him for a moment more before nodding and offering a goodnatured smile._

"_You really are a great king," she murmured. He balked as his cheeks flushed red._

"_Come now, Morgan, we both know you'd make a much better one."_

"_A much better king? Dear brother, you are looking at someone who would never trifle in such trivial matters as politics. And a woman." They both chuckled for a bit before their expressions hardened and they looked back to the lake again. The man looked at his belt, upon which an plain leather sheath hung, the black grip and silver guard on the hilt of a sword sticking out, the pommel in the shape of a dragon's head. The mark of their kingdom. The man reached at his side, brown leather glove closing tightly around the hilt as he elegantly withdrew the blade. In his hands the sword's steel blade shimmered in the sunlight, beams of light bouncing off of and dancing along it. The two simply stared and admired it for a moment, awestruck by its immense beauty. Snapping out of his trance, the man turned to his companion and knelt on one knee, turning the sword so it rested along his outstretched hands and he held up to her. She gingerly took it, and as she rose it to herself it seemed to shudder, as if it could acknowledge a different wielder. Morgan looked to her king and brother for one last nod of confirmation before stepping up to where the water lapped a mere centimeter from her boots and gripping the sword with both hands, drew her arms as far behind her head as she could. Then, with a loud exhale she thrust the word forward and she and her brother watched as it plunged into the lake with a splash, where they hoped it would never be found._

…..

Emma stretched awake with a yawn, the ground cold and hard beneath her small cover of a leather jacket. She stood slowly, groaning as she stretched and heard her bones crack. Turning, she saw that Killian had already woken, nursing his ever-full flask of rum on the other side of the ashes that had been a fire last night. She briefly considered offering him a "Good morning" but he clearly wasn't in the mood and she looked away, eyes landing on Morgan. She looked drained and strained as she sat on her log; she had been almost completely immovable for the past two days, when they decided that they would rest up and get their bearings before heading out to finally get the Blade. Briefly looking up at the powder blue morning sky and giving a small shiver as a brisk breeze whipped across her skin, Emma gingerly made her way over to her companion and sat about a foot to her right on the mossy log. "Yes?" Morgan asked tersely, and Emma tensed slightly, suddenly not sure how exactly to comfort her. She fished around in her mind for something to say, something to do, but before she could take action Killian sat on the other side of Morgan. The woman visibly tensed even more and hugged her arms closer to herself, all three of them staring awkwardly into the trees for what felt like decades. Abruptly Killian let out a sigh that said just as much as his sober expression, before reaching behind him and taking out his flask, garnering Morgan's attention with it.

"My deepest condolences, milady," he whispered solemnly. Morgan gulped as if just barely holding back tears and nodded slowly at the pirate before accepting the flask. She examined it for a moment before bringing it to her lips and cringing as she drank. When she was finished she practically shoved it back into Killian's arms and spit on the ground, and both he and Emma chuckled as she rubbed circles comfortingly into Morgan's back, now glad she could show her support in some small way. She caught Killian's eyes and they both looked away quickly; not before she noticed his face harden and a scowl to come across it. _He must be really upset with me,_ she thought with a twinge in her heart, but pushed it away as she looked towards the sun climbing ever higher in the sky.

"Morgan?" Emma questioned hesitantly. She looked over to her. "Do you…. do you think we could go after the Excalibur-Vorpal Blade now?" Morgan just looked at her for a moment, expression unreadable, before jumping up and storming away purposefully into the woods. Startled and confused, Emma called after her. Both she and Killian stood, and she started jogging off after their companion. She could see Killian making to follow out of the corner of her eyes and turned around briefly, holding her hand out. "_You_ stay here," she commanded, and watched his eyes flash with indignance, though he stayed put. She whirled back around and ran where she saw Morgan had gone. Several thorn bushes and strange animal noises later, she tripped over a rock and faceplanted amidst some leaves. Spitting the moldy foliage out, she looked up to see Morgan huffing in front of her. She stood and wiped herself off. "Morgan-" she began, but she was cut off with an offhanded wave as Morgan hissed.

"Do you know why I came here? Why I helped you? To see my FAMILY. My brother, and my nephew. But hey, guess what, they're dead! And I don't WANT to take you to the sword, I want to grieve and mourn the loss of the only people who have ever cared about me, and who I have ever cared about." Emma sighed. She thought about what Morgan was going through, and had no idea what she would do if one of the family she had only just found died. No. That was too horrid a thought, one that was a reality for Morgan. She looked to the ground and shuffled the upturned leaves at her feet.

"We care, Morgan," she murmured. "And we need you. So…. come back when you're ready." Not meeting her eyes, she turned around and trudged back to their temporary camp. Killian rose an eyebrow at her from where he was waiting and she sighed again, plopping on the log.

"What happened?" he asked, walking over.

"She's mad, and didn't take well to my comforting."

"Typical," Killian muttered as he took a swig of rum and Emma's eyes shot up to burn into his.

"_Excuse me_?" she ground out.

"I believe you heard what I said love."

"If I did I wouldn't ask," she snapped back at his cavalier tone, and he smiled, clearly enjoying her frustration. It was as if he'd reverted to the man who climbed the beanstalk with her- nothing but a mask of innuendos and bravado to hide deep, resonating pain. It almost made her guilty, knowing her rejection and denial was the cause. But she wouldn't allow any guilt in when he was being an ass.

"Oh, I just meant that sociable and empathetic aren't exactly you're most prominent traits."

"I'm plenty empathetic," she barked back in a weak retort. She hadn't bantered with him in a while, too preoccupied with their quest and her ever confusing feelings for him.

"Well you're certainly not wrong about the last three syllables." She rose to her feet and stared him down, bristling.

"Oh, you want to talk about 'pathetic'? Brave words for someone who kisses the floor on a daily basis." She bit back a smile. _I still got it._

"Even braver words for someone who kisses nothing and no one," he jeered in return.

"Oh _please_. At least I have better assets than flirting and invasion of personal space."

"And how often do those assets result in success, darling?"

"About as often as you manage to stay wherever you put your loyalties for the moment."

"Children, please stop bickering! You're both pretty!" a familiar accent sounded with a surprisingly light tone, and they both turned to see Morgan. She appraised them both, and mouthed an almost imperceptible "thank you" to Emma, who smiled. "You're not both smart," she continued. "But pretty is definitely applicable." Both Killian and Emma scoffed as they moved closer to Morgan, whose expression had grown serious. "Let's go. We've a sword of legend to find, dears." With that, she spun around and stalked forward confidently. As Emma and Killian followed suit the blonde silently promised her friend she'd have plenty of time to grieve when they won the battle once and for all.

…

Killian felt the wet sand morph beneath his boots and heard it crunch, breathing the evergreen air and finding his mood immediately lightened. It may have been just simple lake, but the presence of a large body of water comforted him; allowed him to forget his troubles and the fact that they took shape in the holder of his heart that was at the moment following a clearly nostalgic Morgan to the water's edge. He followed suit, coming to stand on the other side of the sorceress. She breathed deeply and looked resolutely out to the lake, and then to Emma. "The sword is in the lake."

"What?" both Killian and Emma asked in unison. Morgan sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose with her forefingers, this time addressing both of her companions as she spoke.

"Arthur thought it best that its powers never be abused. It had already been used to bring Camelot to glory, and before that it had been in Wonderland and with it the Jabberwocky that terrorized that realm for centuries was defeated. But it can be a deadly weapon of mass destruction when in the wrong hands, so Arthur and I opted to keep it away from such hands. Here it is known as Excalibur, the sword of the once and future king of Camelot. And here in this watery grave was where it was meant to rest until needed once again to turn the tide of a plight. I suppose now is that time. But I need your help." Emma pointed slowly at herself in a silent question, and Morgan nodded firmly. "You have magic as well, and all I need you to do is mimic my movements. We have to drain the water from the lake." Killian's eyebrows rose up without his consent and his mouth flew ajar against his will at the preposterous-sounding idea, but he voiced no complaint as he backed up and watched Morgan whisper in Emma's ear and gesticulate wildly. They nodded tersely at each other before facing out to the lake. In unison they held their hands up, faces contorting with intense concentration. Morgan's mouth moved, and inhuman words Killian didn't understand came out, echoing and resonating in his very bones with the buzz of magic in the air. Emma looked to her and watched her hands glow. As if it awakened something within her, she began speaking the strange tongue as well, her eyes unfocused as she stared out to the lake with Morgan. Once Emma joined in the incantations, yellow sparks flew out of the air. Killian jumped with a start as one landed on his jacket collar and began to singe him.

"Bloody hell," he muttered amidst a slew of other expletives. He drew his attention from the magic in the air to the magic in the lake as it began to bubble. And then as the scene grew more spectacular the water in the lake itself began to rise. It was as if Emma and Morgan were invisibly sucking up an enormous droplet of water into the sky. The lake moved piteously slow, but it was soon simply lying like a floating puddle about a hundred feet above the dry lakebed. So intensely awed by the floating mass of water, Killian's attention snapped back to the women as he saw Morgan use a handkerchief to wipe something from Emma's face and he shot forward when he noticed that there was now a red streak on the kerchief. "Are you alright?" he asked, trying his best not to convey too much alarm as he was trying to keep his emotional and physical distance from Emma. She turned to him and her nose was bleeding mildly as she dabbed at it with the handkerchief and she appeared to be exhausted.

"All magic comes with a price," she shrugged, adding a hand flourish at the end that let him know she was repeating something the Crocodile must have said at one point or another. He looked over Morgan as well and could see that she was also drained, though she stepped gingerly onto the lakebed. After a moment she looked back at Killian and Emma and motioned for them to follow, marching forward confidently. Killian glanced up at the suspended water above them a couple times, each time seeing fish swimming about or a strange humanoid figure. He gathered it had to be a siren or some sort of water nymph, maybe a naiad, that guarded the lake from intruders. He felt eyes on him as he studied the figure, and looked back down to lock gazes with Emma.

"See something you like, love?" he asked with a flirtatious grin, and she rolled her eyes.

"Only things that will haunt my nightmares."

"So you admit you dream about me," he replied easily, and noticed Morgan sigh frustratedly at their arguing as she plowed ahead.

"I said _nightmare_. Something that usually features things one doesn't like."

"Only usually?" Emma rolled her eyes and looked ahead as Killian let the subject drop as well, and noticed something gleaming a little way ahead. Morgan began jogging, and he and Emma trotted dutifully behind her as they neared a large mossy rock with a sword embedded in it. It's grip was black while it's guard and pommel were of steel, the pommel in the shape of a dragons' head. The sword was buried in the rock up to its hilt, and beside him Killian heard Emma mutter, "You have _got_ to be kidding me." Morgan turned to them and gestured at the sword.

"Meet Excalibur, the blade of Camelot and King Arthur." Killian gave her a deadpan look.

"That's wonderful and all, but how do we get it out?"

"I used my magic to send Excalibur to the bottom of the lake, where it anchored itself in this rock. Only a born leader, the once and future ruler of, well, something, can pull it out." They both looked expectantly at Emma, and she guffawed as if they had both sprouted wings.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Emma, you _are_ technically a princess," Killian drawled.

"Not to mention the Savior, in more ways than one," Morgan piped in, and moved away from the rock so Emma could more clearly see the sword. "It's waiting for you."

"You're related to King Arthur! Why don't you do it?" Emma protested as she eyed the sword suspiciously, though Morgan just shook her head.

"It has to be you. Now go on. Don't be afraid." Emma looked to Morgan, the sword in the stone, the ground, back to Morgan again, and her gaze briefly flitting to Killian's. While her eyes were on him he gave her a small nod and watched as she finally gathered herself, striding over to where the sword dug into the rock. Breathing deeply, she cautiously wrapped her fingers around the hilt, and pulled. The was the _shing_ of unsheathing metal as the blade flew free from the stone, sliding out like a knife from butter. As Emma held it in her hands and smiled, it began to change before her. It glew quite suddenly with a blinding light and they all looked away. After a moment the light dimmed and Killian squinted at the still glowing sword. The blade had become more narrow, with a sharper point, and the guard was gold and inlaid with pearls. The grip looked to be made of unicorn horn, and the pommel was more gold, silver in the middle that took shape in the form of a swan.

"How…." Emma trailed off as her fingers traced the silver swan on the pommel, and Killian looked at her and her weapon in awe.

"Each wielder is different, and the sword changes itself accordingly. You are Emma Swan, and this is _your_ Excalibur. When it was the Vorpal Blade it looked much different than when my brother had it in his care. In Wonderland it even said words!" Morgan explained.

"Words?" Emma asked airily as she stared at her sword. "What words?"

"Snicker snack," Killian offered, and Morgan nodded. "During my brief stint in Wonderland, the first time, I learned the legend of the Vorpal Blade well. The blade would hiss 'snicker snack' before lopping off its enemies' heads." He watched Emma watch the blade, and Morgan spoke.

"Look, I'll show you. The blade is reflection of oneself. See how it shines with the light that comes from the True Love magic in your blood? Go ahead, give it to the Captain and see what happens." Killian willingly held out his hand, but Emma eyed him warily, something flashing for the briefest of moments. Was that…. paranoia? Or possessiveness? No. Not in his Swan. Sure enough, she handed him the sword and he immediately felt incredible power rush through him as he touched it. It transformed almost instantaneously, morphing into something eerily similar to the naval officer's sword he once had; a thin, long blade that curved slightly, made for finesse and skill on the high seas. The hilt was silver and ruby-encrusted, elegantly fitting into his hand and balancing perfectly with his hook on the other wrist. Erupting along the blades were blue flames, licking along it like a cat's tongue. He gave a few swings, and Excalibur sliced through the air effortlessly. He could easily imagine it felling enemies without even trying. Interrupting his moment of fantasizing a historic battle there was a sudden and sharp tap on his shoulder, and he spun on his heel with the sword at his side, and before he could register the fist coming towards his face his head jerked backwards and he felt warm and sticky blood gush from his nose. He looked up and saw dancing, sadistic, hollow blue eyes and a toothy smile he'd know for centuries before. _Peter. Peter Pan. _He moved to raise Excalibur but he noticed someone behind Pan wave their arm and without warning he was being flung backward, dropping the weapon as his spine and cranium crashed to the sandy dirt. Spinning colors flitted along his vision and mocked him as all he could hear was the shocked gasp of Emma and evil laughter of Pan, all he could feel pain and worry, and all he could think: _Oh crap._


	20. Dueling A Demon

Chapter Twenty: Dueling a Demon

….

_Walk on through a red parade and refuse to make amends_

_It cuts deep through our ground and makes us forget all common sense_

_Don't speak as I try to leave 'cause we both know what we'll choose_

_If you pull then I'll push too deep and I'll fall right back to you_

_'Cause you are the piece of me I wish I didn't need_

_Chasing relentlessly, still fight and I don't know why_

_If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy?_

_If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity?_

_~Clarity, Zedd_

….

"Killian!" Emma yelled as she tried to regain her wits. Morgause and Pan smiled triumphantly as they advanced on the indisposed pirate lying on the ground, Excalibur beside him. If they reached it then there would be no stopping them, and if Emma didn't get to it there would be no way she and Morgan, already heavily taxed, could hold up the smallest of fronts against the two villains before them. Morgan thrust a fireball at her sister, who still had burn marks on her arms from when her son stood up to her, facing the heftiest of prices. Laughing, the evil witch waved her arm and the fireball dissipated rather pitifully. Pan laughed as he marched closer to where Killian and the sword were lying. Without thinking, Emma rushed forward. Morgause saw her coming easily and used magic to throw her to the ground. Pan was bending over, about to grab the sword…. The air sucked itself from Emma's lungs and her heart plummeted to the bottom of her ribcage as she watched in horror. But in a flash there was a glint of metal, lots of leather and some red liquid. Finally processing the scene before her, Emma realized that Killian had spurred into action, sinking his hook into Pan's neck, which now bled profusely. He wailed louder than a banshee and sunk to the ground as Killian dug his metal appendage deeper, as if only to hear the boy squeal. Pan, slowly weakening, reached for Excalibur. The sword moved of its own accord about twenty feet ahead and out of his reach. Looking up, Emma noticed Morgan smiling with her arm held out. Rather suddenly her sister rushed forward with an angered howl, and the two began throwing magic at each other as if their lives depended on it. Rethinking that, Emma realized that they actually did. She had to get to Excalibur. Propping herself to her elbows Emma began to crawl forward like she'd seen in many a military movie. Instead of bombs exploding above her however, there was magic bursts of flame, ice and lightning. She kept moving, gradually getting closer to where Pan and Killian were wrestling and rolling on the sand, each trying to keep the other form reaching the sword and leaving blood across the sandy soil; Emma couldn't tell who it was from anymore. Briefly she was confused about why Pan wasn't just using magic and was so easily harmed, but then remembered Mordred telling them how weak he was, just barely recovered from whatever had depleted him. That thought gave her a boost of hope, and crawling faster she was soon at their side. When Killian's eyes met hers as he thrashed around they told her to go straight for the sword and not get hung up on him. She gave a terse nod just as Pan slugged Killian in the face and along with hearing a sickening crack, blood suddenly spattered onto her face. Now frantic to help him, Emma didn't bother to crawl anymore, standing and rushing over to the sword, swooping down and scooping it up.

"No!" Pan screamed behind her, and Emma smiled as exhilarating power rushed through her being. The weariness on her bones lifted off and took flight someplace else as the Excalibur morphed back into her version of it. Turning back around with Excalibur gripped tightly in her hands, Emma stalked toward Pan. He stood as quickly as he could, one hand on his bloodied neck and eyes alight with fear. Killian also scrambled to his feet, standing a few feet away with his eyes on Emma. She marched forth, raising Excalibur as she did, ready to smash it down upon Pan's head, when suddenly her vision blurred and she felt extremely dizzy. Something thrust her backwards and she felt the ground on her back, but no pain registered as numbness encased her limbs. She opened her mouth to scream for Killian, but she didn't hear any noise come out and wasn't sure if she'd said it at all. Her eyes saw nothing but a gray blur, and she felt as if she were looking into a heavy fog. She wanted to curse, to hold Excalibur and feel its power, to fix whatever had suddenly happened to her, to bang her arms in frustration on the ground, but she couldn't move. She couldn't feel and she couldn't move, and she was losing hope. Then she realized that not only was she paralyzed, but so were her lungs. She couldn't breathe. As she fought a losing battle with whatever spell or curse Pan and Morgause must have placed on her, she began to think it worthless. Just then though, piercing blue eyes broke through the gray of her sight and she felt a buzzing sensation come over her. The gray receded from her vision until she could clearly see Killian's face, expression creased with worry and stained with blood. The sight of him infused her with hope, and she felt herself fighting desperately to move. To hear him, hold him, be with him. With a jerk she could see unimpeded and move unencumbered, immediately wrapping her arms around Killian and holding onto him for dear life as she gulped in air. She clung to his jacket and warmth like he was her anchor to the world, and he held her just as tightly.

"Killian," she whispered shakily, completely unsure of what had just happened, and not wanting to think about why she was so scared to lose him.

"It was Morgause," he explained while he ran his hand through her hair tenderly, and he helped her to stand as they both still hugged each other. Forcing herself to remember what was going on and to tear away from Killian, Emma looked over to where Pan and Morgause advanced on Morgan. She glared at them defiantly, though she was on her knees in front of Excalibur. Their last obstacle. Images of Mordred dead and Henry with his heart ripped out by Pan flashed through Emma's mind and she shouted out.

"No!"

Morgan's head whipped in her direction and with the slightest of smiles and remarkable speed she reached behind her and grabbed Excalibur, throwing it straight towards Emma. She really should've run. Moved to the side, or done anything but stand there and hold her hand out, hoping she could somehow catch it by the hilt. It turned out hoping was enough though, and somehow the sword lodged itself perfectly into her hands. Pan rushed forward as Morgan smiled and stood to engage her sister with a stroke of magic lightning flying from her hands. "You idiot!" he hissed as he reached Emma and shot a fireball at her from the palm of his hand. She shielded herself with Excalibur, and the magic dissipated as soon as it met the miraculous blade. Pan was now even more livid and his face began to flush with anger as he gritted his teeth. With his anger his power seemed to increase, and it was becoming exhausting for Emma to dodge fireball after fireball after fireball. She took a few swings at him but he dodged lithely. Excalibur seemed to wriggle in her hands, as if it were thirsty for blood. And this bloodlust seemed to infect Emma as well. _Enough games,_ she thought as she backed away from Pan and he slung fireballs at her as he advanced. She let out a chilling battle cry and slammed Excalibur forward, slicing the air where Pan's fingers had been a mere second ago. He squeaked in surprise but recovered incredibly fast, throwing another fireball before she had time to turn, so that this one caught her side. Pan laughed wickedly as she clutched her side and glowered at him while they continued to circle each other.

"You pathetic worms. I am weak at the moment, and you have the sword of legend, yet still you cannot defeat me. You never will. Sure, crossing from Neverland to here and destroying Storybrooke took a lot out of me, but I'll get that back tenfold once…." he seemed to realize he was saying to much and closed his mouth, shrugging as two more fireballs formed in the palms of his hands. "Oh well, your little family and friends will find out soon enough."

"Peter?" Emma asked, lowering her sword and cocking her head. Surprised by this uncharacteristic movement, Pan paused.

"What?"

"Die." Lithely Emma looked to Killian, who had been standing right behind Pan, and tossed him Excalibur through the air. Pan's eyes widened and his eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement as he didn't understand what was going on until Killian ran him through with the sword and Emma saw the bloodstained steel poking out of his gut. Pan fell to his knees and Killian pulled the sword out. They stared at each other for a moment as Emma watched from a short distance. Pan was holding onto his wound, face contorted in pain as he laid a bloody hand onto Killian's shoulder and whispered something. Killian's mouth fell open as if in shock, and a few seconds later Pan's hand fell from his shoulder and his body went limp. He was dead. Emma walked over to Killian and knelt by him and Pan's body. "What'd he say?" she asked as she stared at the villain's cold face. She couldn't help but feel almost as if they killed a child, even though she knew he was centuries old.

"He told me to tell his son that he hates him," Killian said, staring at Pan with a grimace of disgust. Emma gaped. She knew Pan's son was Gold and that it was some sort of really messed up thing, but to think that he would waste his last words on demeaning the child he abandoned? She shook her head and looked away from Pan.

"I guess it's over," she said, almost to herself.

"No it's not," Killian said, and Emma looked to where his eyes were locked on Morgan and Morgause, still battling wildly. Killian handed Excalibur back to Emma and she stood. Morgause had Morgan backing away, and she looked at her hands as she waved them. Emma guessed she was trying to get her magic started, but she had no more energy to burn. Morgause stepped forward and snapped her fingers, balls of red magic forming in her hands. Emma was running towards them with Killian in tow but they were much too far away to reach in time._ No, no, no,_ Emma thought. _Not today. Not Morgan and not today._ Desperate, she pulled Excalibur back and threw it forward as straight as she could. Her aim was somehow spot-on, the sword lodging in the middle of Morgause's spine. She teetered and stepped around the ground for a moment before Morgan grabbed her and held her in her arms as the sorceress finally fell to the ground. Emma and Killian rushed forward, and Emma slid to her knees over by Morgan.

"Are you alright?" she asked fretfully. Morgan looked up from her sister briefly to flash a soft smile and nod before looking back to Morgause. Gently Killian slid his arm underneath her back and pulled out Excalibur by the hilt, laying it in the dirt beside them; Emma immediately put her hand protectively on the hilt, not even noticing she did it. Morgause groaned in pain and Morgan made faint soothing noises, wiping some of the blood from her sister's mouth.

"I'm so sorry that it had to be like this Morgause," Morgan said, genuine sadness and remorse in her voice. Morgause just sickly chuckled, turning her head to spit blood on Killian's boot before shooting fire at all of them with her eyes.

"You think you've won? This is only the very beginning, and by the end you won't know anything but your own anguished screams, let alone love or happiness you revolting masses of worthless flesh." And with that Emma suddenly grabbed Excalibur and made to plunge it into Morgause, finishing her off. Morgan grabbed her hand and shook her head, prying the sword from her fingers and raising it high. Clearly she intended to do it herself. Emma and Killian looked away as Morgause smiled evilly. Emma heard the sword slice through the air and collide with Morgause. After a moment she looked back at Morgan and her sister, watching her silently closing the dead woman's eyes. Determinedly she looked up at Emma and Killian.

"We should bury them."

"Of course, but how?" Killian asked. Morgan looked above them at the lake water still floating above them. Emma had almost forgotten about it. The sorceress looked down at them again, fire in her eyes.

"Let the water wash their scum bodies away to hell."

…

The trio trudged along in the unforgiving heat, and Emma tightened her sweaty grip on Excalibur at her side. The power within it kept her going; if she didn't have it she may have collapsed by now. She glanced over at Morgan and Killian. Morgan was refusing a sip of Killian's rum, and the pirate shrugged and drank from it, still somehow managing to wear his leather coat. _Damn, _Emma thought. _He has like nine layers of leather on! Shouldn't he be at least a little hot?!_ Shaking her head and fixing her gaze ahead again, she suddenly thought she heard something akin to a horse whinny in the distance. Exchanging looks with her companions, she moved Excalibur up and nodded at them. They would stand their ground. They could hear hoofbeats now, and they were steadily getting closer. Coming out from what seemed like all sides were cloaked figures on horseback. There were six of them, and tagging along with them were three riderless horses. One had black fur and red eyes, another was a pinto, and the other was…. _Ace! _Emma narrowed her eyes at the figures. Where did they get their horses? And why weren't they having heat stroke as well?

"Show yourselves," she commanded, and the figures did so. One by one they were revealed to be Mary Margaret, Gold, Belle, Mulan, Robin, and Regina.

"Mom!" Emma exclaimed and raced forward. Her mother dismounted her horse just in time to give her daughter a welcoming embrace.

"Emma, I'm so glad to see you!" she said, pulling back and cupping her face as she beamed at her. "We thought you'd all been gone too long so I formed a search party. Henry, Neal, and your father wanted to come but I convinced them to hang back and take care of everyone else." Emma nodded and looked to everyone else. She accepted a hug from Belle, kind nods from Regina and Gold, a pat on the back from Mulan, and bow as well as a kiss on the hand from Robin. When her eyes flitted bashfully up as he kissed her hand she could've sworn she saw jealousy in Regina's eyes but when she looked to Killian he was speaking to Mulan. After the pleasantries were exchanged everybody mounted their respective horses and started off at a light trot. Emma rode at the front in between her mother and Morgan. Behind her were Belle and Gold, then Regina, then Mulan, Robin, and Killian. Emma pretended not to be disappointed that the pirate had chosen to take up the rear. After all, why should she be? They'd defeated the big bad and were now riding off into the sunset to receive their praises. Emma had Excalibur, and with it she was an unstoppable fighter. She'd made a great friend in Morgan and would soon be home to her son. But Killian didn't seem to want to celebrate, at least not with her, and that really hurt. Amidst all of her inner turmoil, however, was Morgause's dying words. They rang through her mind and invaded her thoughts, scorching onto her ears when she first heard them and now etched into her brain. A floating warning of potential threats to come, and a guarantee of pain. The worst part was that when Morgause said this, Emma detected no lies.


End file.
